THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


™«    CV; 


THE 


SERVANTS  OF  THE  STOMACH. 


BY    JEAN     MACE, 


AUTHOR   OF 


"THE  HISTORY  OF  A   MOUTHFUL  OF  BREAD,"  "HOME  FAIRY  TALES," 
ETC.,  ETC. 


REPRINTED  FROM  THE  LONDON  TRANSLATION,  REVISED  AND  CORRECTED. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN     SQUARE. 
1868. 


BY     JEAN     MACE. 


HOME  FAIRY  TALES  (Contes  du  Petit-CIiateau\  Translated  by  MARY  L. 
BOOTH.  With  Engravings,  izmo,  Cloth,  $i  75. 

THE  SERVANTS  OF  THE  STOMACH.  Reprinted  from  the  London  Trans- 
lation, Revised  and  Corrected.  i2mo,  Cloth,  $i  75. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  A  MOUTHFUL  OF  BREAD:  and  its  Effect  on  the 
Organization  of  Men  and  Animals.  Translated  from  the  Eighth  French 
Edition  by  Mrs.  ALFRED  GATTY.  lamo,  Cloth,  $i  75.  ~ 

THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  SENSES  AND  THOUGHT.  Translated  by  MARY 
L.  BOOTH.  i2mo.  (In  Press.) 


PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


MH5" 


TRANSLATOR'S    PREFACE. 


M.  MACE'S  books  are  now  so  well  known  to  those  in- 
terested in  the  education  of  children,  that,  in  offering  this 
translation  to  the  public,  I  feel  that  my  best  hope  of 
success  rests  on  his  name. 

t 

It  is  about  two  years  since  Mrs.  Gatty's  able  pen 
presented  our  English  children  with  a  translation  of 
"  Une  Bouchee  de  Pain,"  under  the  title  of  "  A  Bit  of 
Bread." 

The  "  Bit  of  Bread,"  though  complete  in  itself,  forms 
the  first  of  a  "  Series  of  Letters  to  a  Child  on  the  Life 
of  Man  and  Animals,"  each  of  which  in  its  turn  em- 
braces a  higher  and  more  extended  range  of  natural  his- 
tory. First,  we  began  with  "  The  history  of  life,  as 
sustained  and  supported  in  the  human  race."  We  next 
studied  "  The  history  of  life  in  the  lower  animals ; "  now 
we  come  to  man  himself,  God's  greatest,  noblest  work. 
We  trace  his  exquisite  structure,  his  wonderful  superi- 
ority over  the  lower  forms  of  animal  life,  and,  taking 
the  stomach  as  the  centre  of  the  vital  system,  we  care- 

(iii) 

JV131S9J..6 


iv  TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE. 

fully  review  the  greater  number  of  its  band  of  servants, 
and  study  the  various  duties  assigned  to  each,  for  "  How 
knoweth  discontented  man  what  a  train  of  ills  might 
follow,  if  the  lowest  menial  of  nature  knew  not  her 
secret  office  ?  " 

Entering  as  heartily  as  Mrs.  Gatty  does  into  the 
charm  of  M.  Mace's  style,  and,  as  she  justly  observes, 
"  admiring  with  what  marvellous  ingenuity  and  beautiful 
skill  he  has  brought  the  great  leading  anatomical  and 
physical  facts  of  life  out  of  the  depths  of  scientific  learn- 
ing, and  made  them  comprehensible  to  a  child."  I  have 
endeavored  to  follow  in  her  steps,  and  to  render  the 
English  edition  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  spirit  of 
the  original,  suppressing  one  or  two  short  passages  un- 
suited  to  English  taste,  or  which  would  have  lost  their 
character  in  the  translation. 

Many  persons  will  probably  mile  when  they  discover 
that  "  The  Little  Kingdom,"  is  a  translation  of  "  Les 
Serviteurs  de  1'Estomac,"  but  few  will  guess  how  greatly 
the  selection  of  the  title  perplexed  me.  We,  in  this 
country,  are  somewhat  fastidious  in  allusions  to  the  sub- 
ject of  1'Estomac,  yet  so  much  in  the  first  chapter  de- 
pends upon  the  French  title  that  I  could  not  entirely 
dismiss  the  obnoxious  term.  From  those,  then,  who 
would  disapprove,  I  claim  indulgence,  in  consideration 
of  the  amount  of  valuable  information  the  book  contains. 

These  subjects  are  new  to  our  young  people,  but  not 
on  that  account  the  less  important.  This  is  an  advancing 
age.  Happy  they  who  are  enabled  to  combine  instruc- 


tion  with  amusement,  to  awaken  in  a  child's  mind  a 
thirst  for  information,  a  love  for  subjects  worthy  of 
study,  and  who  teach  them  that  the  servants  of  our  ma- 
terial body  do  not  merely  minister  to  our  animal  wants, 
but  also  to  the  cultivation  of  the  intellect,  and  to  the 
gratification  of  the  perception  of  beauty. 

The  study  of  the  works  of  the  Creator  is  as  elevating 
as  it  is  delightful,  for  the  more  deeply  we  accustom  our- 
selves to  search  into  the  wonders  around  us,  the  more 
clearly  we  discover  the  wisdom  which  is  displayed  even 
in  the  lowest  forms  of  creation. 

"  Search  out  the  wisdom  of  nature,  there  is  a  depth  in  all  her 

doings  ; 

Oh,  frozen  is  thy  heart  if  it  glow  not  with  gratitude  for  all  things  ; 
In  the 'perfect  circle  of  creation  not  an  atom  could  be  spared, 
From  earth's  magnetic  zone  to  the  bindweed  round  a  hawthorn." 

Like  Mrs.  Gatty,  I  also  am  greatly  indebted  to  an 
able  medical  friend,  who  not  only  first  suggested  my 
undertaking  the  translation  of  "  Les  Serviteurs,"  but 
with  an  accurate  knowledge  of  both  languages,  materially 
assisted  me  by  his  revisal  of  the  MS.  Any  success  my 
little  book  may  obtain  will  therefore  in  great  part  be 
due  to  him, -as  without  his  aid  these  pages  would  never 
have  been  sent  to  press. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  INTRODUCTION 9 

H.  MAN.— THE  BONES, 20 

in.  LIFE  OF  THE  BONES, 28 

IV.  THE  MARROW, 37 

V.  THE  JOINTS, ...'...  42 

VI.  THE  VERTEBRAL  COLUMN, 51 

VH.  THE  VERTEBRAL  COUJW3-(Continued.)       ....  59 

VIII.  THE  HEAD  AND  CHEST, 70 

IX.  THE  ARMS  AND  LEGS, 83 

X.  THE  ARMS  AND  LEGS— (Continued,') 92 

XI.  THE  ARMS  AND  LEGS— ( Continued,} 103 

XH.  THE  ARMS  AND  LEGS— (Continued,) 109 

XHI.  THE  MUSCLES, 119 

XIV.  THE  MUSCIXS-Wontinued,) 126 

XV.  THE  MUSCLES— (Continued,) '131 

XVI.  THE  MUSCLES-  (Continued,) 138 

XVH.  ATTITUDES, 146 

XVm.  ATTITUDES-CCbn/Ji/merf,) 153 

XIX.  MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  HUMAN  BODY,    .        •       ...  162 

XX.  THE  MOVEMENTS-(ttw«nwed.) 172 

XXI.  THE  MOVEMENTS— (Continued,) 180 

XXH.  ELECTRICITY, 189 

XXm.  ELECTRICITY— (Continued,)  .        .        .        .       .        .       .       .197 

XXIV.  ELECTRICITY— (Continued.) 207 

XXV.  ELECTRICITY-((70^zm^,) 218 

XXVT.  THE  NERVES  AND  SPINAL  MARROW 227 

(vil) 


viii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER.  PAGE, 

XXVH.  THE  BRAIN,  . '."'- .- .  .  .235 

XXVIH.  THE  BRAIN— (Continued,)  .  .  .  ...  .  .242 

XXIX.  ANIMAL  ELECTRICITY, 250 

Tnnr.  VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS,        .        .        .        .        .        .        .256 

XXXI.  VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS— (Continued,)  ....  262 

XXXH.  THE  CEREBELLUM,  .  .  .  ; 270 

XXXHI.  THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE,  .  .  .  .  '  ,  .  .  .275 
XXXIV.  THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE— (Continued,)  .  .  .  .  .  235 

XXXV.  THE  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS 295 

XXXVI.  THE  GREAT  SYMPATHETIC  NERVE,  .  .  304 


THE 


SERVANTS  OF  THE  STOMACH. 


CHAPTER     I. 

INTRODUCTION. 

MY  dear  child,  I  have  already  related  in  my  history 
of  a  "  Mouthful  of  Bread,"  a  portion  of  your  own  his- 
tory, that  which  is  going  on  within  you  in  silence  and 
obscurity,  without  your  thinking  about  it,  without  your 
being  even  conscious  of  it ;  and  during  most  of  this  time 
you  have  been  obliged  to  take  me  at  my  word. 

What  remains  for  me  to  speak  about  now  is  less  mys- 
terious :  that  is,  your  arms,  your  legs,  your  little  nose, 
your  large  eyes  which  are  staring  at  me,  your  ears  which 
listen  to  me — all  those  things  which  are  your  constant 
companions,  and  the  history  of  which  ought,  it  seems  to 
me,  to  interest  you  still  more. 

All  these  belong  to  the  walking  machine,  which  is 
the  companion  of  our  eating  machine. 

You  are  grown  taller  and  wiser  since  we  began  to 
study  together.  You  are  no  longer  the  little  girl  that 
knew  nothing,  and  I  no  longer  require  to  speak  to  you 
as  I  should  to  a  little  child.  We  will  therefore  lay  aside 
the  terms  walking  and  eating  machines,  which  did  very 
well  for  a  beginner,  but  which  are  not  so  good  as  those 
1*  (9) 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

used  by  scientific  men,  though  they  were  prettier  and 
more  suited  to  you  at  first.  .  In  science,  as  elsewhere,  the 
prettiest  is  not  always  the  best. 

This  eating  machine  we  ought  properly  to  have 
called  the  nourishing  machine.  To  nourish  one's  self 
is  to  change  into  one's  own  substance  those  foreign  in- 
gredients which  enter  into  the  body,  and  eating  is  only 
the  beginning  of  this  grand  operation.  Self-nourishment 
is  a  book  of  which  eating  is  the  introduction.  Recollect 
all  the  journeys  our  mouthful  of  bread  took.  Once  eaten, 
through  how  many  organs  it  passed — stomach,  heart, 
lungs,  veins,  arteries,  and  the  like  !  All  these  organs 
combined  to  perform  a  single  act — the  act  of  nutrition  ; 
and  nothing  is  simpler  or  clearer  than  the  name  given 
them  by  scientific  men — viz., 

OEGANS  OF  NUTRITION. 

It  is  the  same  with  the  walking  machine.  Its  principal 
duty,  and  the  only  one  with  which  we  shall  occupy  our- 
selves, is  to  provide  the  eating  machine  with  substances 
on  which  it  must  work.  To  make  hare  soup,  your 
mother's  cookery  book  tells  you,  "  you  must  first  catch 
your  hare."  This  is  the  primary  condition  imposed  on 
every  cook,  and  on  Mr.  Stomach  as  well  as  other  cooks  ; 
and  to  catch  the  hare,  assistants  are  necessary.  Many 
of  our  organs  act  the  same  part  toward  the  stomach  in 
this  preliminary  operation  without  which  nutrition  is 
impossible,  and  these  organs  are  not  used  for  walking 
only  ;  they  are  intended,  each  in  its  own  way,  to  put  us 
in  relation,  in  connexion,  if  you  prefer  the  term,  with  those 
substances  which  are  to  have  the  honor  of  lodging 
within  us.  Hence  the  true  name  of  the  walking  ma- 
chine— • 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

ORGANS  OF  RELATION. 

And  do  you  clearly  understand  the  meaning  of  being  in 
relation  to  substances  ? 

Not  exactly,  perhaps. 

When  you  wish  to  be  put  in  relation  to,  or  communica- 
tion with  any  person,  you  apply  to  your  friends,  who  fur- 
nish you  with  the  individual's  address,  conduct  you  to 
him,  or  procure  you  an  introduction.  We  have  friends 
who  render  us  the  same  service  with  the  substances  in 
question,  and  who  are  always  ready  at  their  post  to  put 
us  in  communication  with  them  :  these  are  the  organs  of 
relation. 

The  united  working  of  these  two  sets  of  organs  forms 
within  us  two  very  distinct  kinds  of  life,  each  of  which 
has  received  its  distinctive  name  from  learned  men. 

The"  first  they  have  named  Organic  Life,  which  sig- 
nifies life  common  to  all  beings  possessing  organs. 

In  the  last  chapter  .  of  "  A  Mouthful  of  Bread," 
which  has  for  its  title — "  On  the  Nutrition  of  Plants," — 
I  have  shown  that  a  blade  of  grass  nourishes  itself  as 
truly  as  man  does,  and  what  is  more,  by  the  same  process, 
and  thus  far  it  possesses  the  same  life  that  he  does. 

The  other  form  of  life  which  we  have  yet  to  study, 
and  which  has  its  seat  in  the  organs  of  relation,  has 
been  called  Animal  Life,  that  is  to  say,  life  peculiar  to 
animals.  Those  who  have  thus  named  it  are  perfectly 
sure  that  the  smallest  trace  of  this  life  cannot  be  found 
in  vegetables  ;  for  imagine  how  absurd  it  would  sound  to 
say,  the  animal  life  of  vegetables !  As  to  myself,  I  never 
could  feel  so  sure  about  this,  and  I  must  therefore  in  my 
correspondence  with  you  reject  these  terms  organic  and 
animal  life,  which  settle  the  question  rather  cavalierly  ; 
and  I  shall  say,  life  of  nutrition  and  life  of  relation, 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

thus  naming  them  according  to  their  nature,  and  leaving 
to  the  Almighty  the  secret  of  the  limits  of  their  domain. 
Before  concluding  this  study,  I  shall  endeavour  to  show 
that  vegetables  are  not  reduced  to  mere  simple  eating 
machines,  that  there  is  also  among  them  a  something 
which  feels  and  moves,  and  that  the  difference  in  this 
respect  is  very  small  between  them  and  what  we  call  the 
lowest  order  of  animals. 

These  two  forms  of  life,  that  of  nutrition  and  that  of 
relation,  I  have  already  noticed,  and  I  have  marked  out 
very  clearly  the  ground  where  each  manifests  itself.  I 
one  day  said  to  you, 

"  Your  body  is  a  little  kingdom,  of  which  you  should 
be  queen,  but  queen  of  the  frontiers  only.  The  arms, 
the  legs,  the  lips,"  the  eyelids,  all  the  external  parts,  are 
your  very  humble  servants  ;  at  your  slightest  bidding 
they  move  or  keep  still  ;  your  will  is  their  law.  "But  in 
the  interior  you  are  quite  unknown.  There,  there  is  a 
little  republic  to  itself,  ruling  itself  independently  of 
your  orders,  which  it  would  laugh  at,  if  you  attempted 
to  issue  them." 

We  have  travelled .  together  through  this  little  re- 
public. It  is  now  the  turn  of  the  little  kingdom  ;  and 
if  the  first  journey  has  been  an  interesting  one,  I  sincerely 
hop'e  this  second  one  will  not  weary  you.  Queens  have 
always  found  pleasure  in  travelling  through  their  own 
kingdoms. 

"Why  then,'7  you  ask,  "have  you  put  this  strange 
title,  the  '  Servants  of  the  Stomach/  to  your  new  task  ? 
If  all  that  we  are  going  to  search  into  has  only  been 
made  to  serve  the  stomach,  of  what  am  I  queen,  and  how 
can  I  be  proud  of  my  royalty  ?" 

Alas  !  my  dear  child,  I  am  only  a  professor  of  physi- 
ology, as  it  is  called.  I  have  but  one  thing  to  teach 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

you,  viz.,  how  this  little  body,  which  you  have  in  common 
with  the  animals,  exists  ;  and  though  I  love  you  with 
all  my  heart,  I  can  see  in  you  during  our  lesson  nothing 
but  a  little  animal.  The  first  duty,  or,  rather,  let  us 
say,  the  first  necessity  of  the  animal,  is  to  satisfy  this 
imperious  master  who  nourishes  the  whole,  but  only  on 
condition  that  the  whole  works  for  him.  Yes,  your  sub- 
jects are  his  servants,  because  you  yourself  are  his 
servant,  and  you  rule  for  his  benefit.  What  I  say  here 
is  of  the  animal.  Happy  those  upon  whom  it  devolves 
to  teach  you  the  duties,  to  awaken  you  to  a  sense  of  the 
necessities  of  another  life,  of  a  life  superior  to  that  of 
the  animal !  These  have  the  greatest,  the  easiest,  and  the 
most  interesting  task.  They  will  teach  you  that  all 
these  organs  which  we  are  going  to  pass  under  review, 
were  not  given  to  you  only  to  be  servants  of  your  stom- 
ach, and  that,  without  quitting  the  great  question  of 
nourishment,  your  hands,  for  instance,  were  also  made 
to  give  as  well  as  to  take  it,  your  legs  to  carry  it  where 
it  was  wanting,  as  well  as  to  carry  you  where  the  nour- 
ishment is  to  be  found.  We  have,  thank  God,  relations 
with  other  objects  as  well  as  witl^limentary  substances, 
and  the  organs  whose  duty.it  is  to  accomplish  the  acts 
of  the  life  of  relation  do  not  confine  their  services  en- 
tirely to  the  stomach.  Some  children  might  ask  why 
these  organs  are  called  their  servants,  seeing  that  break- 
fast, luncheon,  dinner,  and  supper  follow  one  another 
regularly  every  day,  without  any  apparent  labor  on  the 
part  of  their  organs.  They  are,  let  me  remark,  in  pass- 
ing, better  able  than  others  to  employ  these  organs  on 
something  nobler,  such  as  self-improvement,  making 
themselves  useful  to  their  parents,  in  giving  pleasure  to 
one  another,  etc..  etc.  I  must  nevertheless  assure  you 
that  the  organs  carry  on  their  first  duty  though  it  may 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

not  be  their  only  one,  even  in  a  little  child  who  does 
not  appear  to  require  them  in  order  to  enable  it  to 
eat. 

These  organs,  we  have  already  said,  are  appointed 
to  put  us  in  relation  to  the  substances  which  we  eat. 
Now,  when  you  are  seated  at  table,  with  a  nice  plate  of 
fruit  before  you,  which  of  the  organs  is  intrusted  to  pres- 
ent it  to  you  ? 

"  There  is  only  one,"  you  reply,  "  and  that  is  my  hand, 
which  carries  the  spoon  to  my  mouth." 

Indeed !  is  that  the  only  one  ?  What,  then,  of  the  eye 
which  enables  you  to  see  the  pretty  color  of  the  fruit, 
and  the  nose  which  tells  you  how  good  it  smells,  and 
the  tongue,  that  dear  little  gate-keeper,  what  do  you 
think  of  it — does  he  say  nothing  for  himself  ?  You  have 
there  at  once  three  organs  of  relation  quite  as  important 
as  the  hand  ;  for  each  of  them  in  its  own  fashion  puts  you 
in  connexion  with  this  precious  substance  called  soup, 
without  which  little  girls  would  never  grow  to  be  women. 

But  you  understood  that  this  work  is  -only  an  amuse- 
ment. With  a  child  seated  at  table  truly  the  business 
is  more  than  half  accomplished  :  what  is  placed  before 
it  only  requires  to  be  eaten.  Some  of  these  organs  of 
relation  can  sleep  at  their  ease,  and  those  who  watch  do 
not  require  to  fatigue  themselves  with  the  work.  To  see 
them  all  actively  employed,  let  us  picture  to  ourselves 
a  wolf  in  the  forest  awaiting  the  hour  of  dinner. 

The  substances  which  are  to  form  his  repast  are  not 
all  there  within  his  reach,  quite  ready  for  his  appetite. 
They  ramble  far  off  in  the  brushwood,  under  the  skin  of 
a  goat  or  a  deer,  and  it  is  no  easy  affair  for  him  to  put 
himself  into  useful  relation  to  them.  Now !  see  how  the 
organs  all  work  together  in  order  to  accomplish  this 
difficult  task.  Look  how  many  must  engage  in  the 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

chase :  the  eyes  on  the  watch,  the  ear  erect,  the  nose  to 
windward — three  servants  of  his  stomach  who  are  on 
the  look-out  for  him,  and  who  report  faithfully  if  they 
see,  hear,  or  smell  anything  suitable.  The  prey  thus 
tracked  out  by  them,  the  next  step  is  to  obtain  possess- 
ion of  it.  For  this  purpose  the  bones,  the  muscles  and 
the  legs  of  the  animal  are  called  into  action,  fresh  serv- 
ants put  suddenly  in  motion  by  a  mysterious  power  which 
shows  itself  as  by  enchantment  on  the  report  of  the 
scouts,  and  which  has  its  seat  in  certain  organs,  the  names 
of  which  you  know  quite  well.  There  are  the  nerves, 
which  must  also  be  ranked  among  our  band  of  servants, 
for  without  them  the  legs  could  no  more  move  than 
could  two  pieces  of  wood.  But  this  is  not  all.  The 
power  which  the  legs  obey  is  a  blind  power  requiring  to 
be  directed,  and  the  indications  of  the  eye,  ear,  and  nose 
could  not  alone  suffice  for  this,  on  account  of  the 
distance  of  the  game  and  its  own  natural  cunning,  if 
there  were  not  something  more.  What  can  it  be  ?  I 
should  find  it  very  difficult  to  tell  you  exactly  what ; 
at  any  rate,  there  is  certainly  a  something  which 
estimates  the  value  of  their  indications,  compares  them 
with  former  indications  of  the  same  nature  given  in 
similar  circumstances,  decides  what  is  to  be  done,  and 
gives  its  orders  accordingly.  This  something  acts  by 
means  of  an  organ,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  and  this  organ 
is  also  a  servant  of  the  stomach.  I  am  very  sorry  for 
the  brain,  for  he  it  is,  if  this  servitude  should  cause  him  to 
descend  from  the  first  rank.  But  if  wolves  could  speak, 
they  would  tell  us  that  with  them  the  stomach  is  of 
more  importance  than  the  brain,  and  that  the  latter  is 
only  the  principal,  the  head  one,  if  you  like,  of  all  the 
other  servants  of  the  former.  The  whole  of  this  army 
of  servants  sometimes  work  for  hours,  before  the  teeth 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

can  take,  their  turn,  and  what  to  you  is  the  beginning  of 
the  task,  is  the  end  of  it  to  the  wolf. 

Now,  you  can  at  a  glance  comprehend  the  full  extent 
of  the  study  we  propose  to  .undertake. 

In  order  that  the  animal  may  be  able  to  seek  its  food, 
it  must  be  provided  with  an  apparatus  to  carry  it  where 
that  food  is  to  be  found,  a  regular  machine,  of  which 
with  us,  the  bones  form  the  framework,  and  the  muscles 
the  cordage. 

We  shall,  then,  first  study  the  bones  and  muscles,  and 
I  shall  endeavour  to  make  you  understand  the  mechan- 
ism by  means  of  which  all  the  movements  you  execute 
are  so  easily  effected,  and  that  without  your  knowing 
how. 

In  order  that  this  machine  may  act,  it  requires,  like 
all  those  invented  by  human  industry,  a  power  to  put 
it  in  motion.  I  do  not  promise  to  tell  you  exactly 
what  this  power  is,  because  it  is  not  perfectly  under- 
stood ;  but  I  can  show  you  the  apparatus  by  means  of 
which  it  is  produced,  and  which  is  composed  of  nerves 
and  brain. 

After  that,  I  shall  take  the  scouts  in  their  turn.  These 
scouts  are  engaged  in  making  discoveries,  and  are,  in 
other  words,  the  five  senses.  From  thence  we  shall  be 
obliged  to  make  an  excursion  into  what  is  called  phys- 
ical science,  for  how  can  we  explain  the  eye  without 
speaking  of  light,  or  the  ear  without  speaking  of  sound  ? 
But  do  not  complain,  for  these  are  very  interesting  sub- 
jects which  it  is  well  to  know  about  at  any  age,  and, 
therefore,  much  better  to  be  known  at  once.  The  sense 
of  touch  will  lead  us  to  consider  the  skin,  its  principal 
seat,  but  which  also  fulfills  many  other  functions,  one  of 
the  most  important  being  that  of  covering  and  protect- 
ing the  whole  body,  as  a  paper  cover  protects  the  deli- 


INTRODUCTION.  17 

cate  binding  of  a  book.  Lastly,  we  shall  say  a  word 
about  the  intelligence  dwelling  in  the  brain  ;  and  here, 
my  dear  young  friend,  those  who  inquire  the  most  pro- 
foundly into  it  are  the  most  perplexed,  therefore  you 
must  not  ask  me  much  upon  this  subject.  I  will  tell 
you  what  is  known,  or  at  least  what  is  presumed  to  be 
known,  and  for  the  remainder  you  will  do  as  I  do,  you 
will  wait. 

This  history  of  the  servants  of  the  stomach  will  be 
carried  on  like  that  of  a  "  Mouthful  of  Bread."  We  shall 
first  study  these  servants  in  man,  where  they  are  seen  in 
full  perfection,"  then  in  animals,  where  they  are  seen 
constantly  retrograding  and  becoming  effaced,  in  pro- 
portion as  they  are  further  removed  from  man,  until 
they  at  last  end,  in  some  way,  by  all  disappearing.  Only 
this  once,  in  order  not  to  go  again  over  the  same  ground, 
we  will  follow  an  order  inverse  of  the  former.  Instead 
of  commencing  with  those  species  nearest  to  man,  and 
descending  towards  the  lower  animals,  we  shall  take  the 
latter  as  our,  starting-point,  and  thence  we  shall  ascend 
to  man,  gathering  up  one  by  one  on  our  journey  all  the 
relative  organs  he  possesses,  instead  of  leaving  them  by 
degrees  on  the  road  as  we  did  with  the  organs  of  nutri- 
tion. In  this  manner  you  will  better  satisfy  yourself 
that  the  animal  machine  is  everywhere  alike,  and  that 
the  organs  we  meet  with  are  always  the  same,  only  they 
are  not  always  found  in  the  same  degree  of  perfection, 
and  some  of  them  may  in  certain  animals  be  wanting. 
They  may,  in  this  state,  be  compared  to  the  outline  of  a 
drawing  ;  the  strokes  of  the  pencil  are  not  all  there,  are 
not  all  finished,  and  in  the  first  sketch  it  is  often  dif- 
ficult to  guess  the  subject  of  the  composition,  but  a 
painter's  eye  will  not  be  deceived  by  it. 

Then,  to  conclude  our  research,  we  shall  glance  over 


18  INTRODUCTION. 

those  traces  of  animal  life  that  I  pointed  out  to  you  a 
short  time  since  as  existing  in  vegetables,  and  by  means 
of  which  they  seem  to  fraternise  with  the  lowest  forms 
of  animal  life ;  forms  which  appear  to  us  almost  re- 
stricted to  the  narrow  limits  of  vegetable  life.  I  shall, 
however,  have  little  to  say  on  this  subject,  for  it  is  a 
question  that  has  not  as  yet  been  studied  as  it  deserves 
to  be,  at  least  to  my  knowledge.  I  believe,  neverthe- 
less, that  you  will  see  enough  to  make  you  understand 
how  modestly,  how  diffidently  we  should  speak  of  nature, 
and  how  difficult  it  is  to  trace  with  certainty  the  divi- 
sions and  subdivisions  in  this  mysterious  world  of  life, 
created  by  one  fiat  of  the  divine  thought. 

But  this  is  a  little  beyond  you,  my  young  friend,  and 
so  here  let  me  stop,  for  you  have  had  enough  for  the 
present.  Do  not,  however,  run  away  from  this  lesson 
with  the  idea  that  whenever  the  stomach  commands,  you 
must  obey.  I  have  told  you  already,  and  cannot  repeat 
it  too  often,  it  is  only  an  animal  which  yields  implicit 
obedience  to  its  stomach.  By  reason,  by  conscience,  by 
the  power  of  the  will,  you  are  called  to  mount  higher, 
and  this  is  precisely  the  object  proposed  in  the  educa- 
tion of  children,  who  would  never  make  much  progress 
if  left  to  themselves.  But  this  is  your  affair  and  not 
mine.  I  am  examining  a  walking  machine,  primarily 
intended  to  work  for  an  eating  machine,  and  I  need  not 
concern  myself  with  anything  else.  Let  those  who 
would  be  ashamed  of  being  simply  machines  make  their 
own  reflections. 

Still,  let  us  understand  ourselves.  It  is  very  well 
that  the  queen  of  this  little  kingdom  should  not  always 
unthinkingly  place  her  subjects  at  the  disposal  of  her 
rival,  the  republic,  and  that  she  should  know  how  to  main- 
tain her  own  authority  when  necessary.  That,  on  the 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

other  hand,  it  will  not  do  to  oppress  this  rival,  nor  re- 
fuse her  what  is  just,  merely  for  the  pleasure  of  oppos- 
ing her.  She  has  also  her  rights,  which  cannot  be  in- 
fringed with  impunity.  To  allow  the  life  confided  to 
her  to  languish,  is  to  expose  the  higher  life  to  languish 
also,  for  all  our  organs  depend  one  on  the  other,  and 
the  stomach  has  a  way  of  revenging  itself  on  those  who 
do  not  care  for  it  properly  ;  it  leaves  the  whole  quietly 
to  perish  ;  and  the  greatest  sufferers  are  generally  those 
who  were  formerly  the  greatest  boasters. 

It  is  but  the  old  fable  of  La  Fontaine's  of  the  "  belly 
and  its  members,"  of  which  what  we  have  already  said 
is  only  the  explanation. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE  BONES. 

WHEN  I  was  a  child  I  was  always  running,  and  as 
constantly  falling  down.  I  do  not  mention  this  as  any- 
thing extraordinary  ;  but  I  recollect  that  in  those  days 
a  fall  was  of  no  consequence  :  no  sooner  was  I  on  the 
ground  than  I  got  up  again ;  the  thought  of  breaking 
arms  or  legs  never  came  into  my  head. 

Now  that  I  am  a  staid  professor,  a  fall  is  a  serious 
affair  for  me,  and  I  do  my  best  to  avoid  one  when  I  run  ; 
nevertheless,  two  or  three  years  ago,  I  do  not  remember 
upon  what  occasion,  I  found  myself  extended  full  length 
upon  the  ground,  as  in  bygone  days,  and  to  my  disgrace 
be  it  said,  I  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  up  again.  I 
even  think  that  involuntarily  I  put  my  hand  to  the  spot 
that  had  received  the  shock,  to  ascertain  that  no  injury 
had  befallen  me.  I  am  then,  as  you  see,  already  very 
far  removed  from  my  indian-rubber-ball  condition,  and  if 
I  should  live  to  be  an  old  man,  the  difference  will  be 
greater  still.  I  must  take  care  when  I  walk,  for  the 
risk  of  breaking  a  limb  by  falling  would  be  consider- 
able, and  broken  bones  reunite  less  readily  when  one  is 
old. 

You  also,  my  dear  child,  are  accustomed  to  fall,  and 
think  nothing  of  it ;  but,  believe  me,  such  will  not 
always  be  •  the  case.  I  am  no  solitary  exception  ;  my 
history  is  but  that  of  every  other  person. 

But  how  is  this  difference  between  grown-up  people 

(20) 


THE   BONES.  21 

and  children  to  be  accounted  for,  as  the  bones  of  the 
former,  from  being  more  solid,  would  naturally  break 
far  less  easily  ? 

It  is  accounted  for  by  the  manner  in  which  the  bones 
grow  in  the  body,  and  the  changes  they  undergo  in  pro- 
portion as  age  advances. 

You  may  often  have  seen  meat-jelly,  or,  more  properly 
speaking,  bone-jelly,  transparent  and  trembling  upon  a 
a  dish.  If  you  go  to  the  cook  whilst  she  is  preparing 
it,  you  will  see  it  is  principally  extracted  from  the  bones 
of  calves ;  thus,  what  cooks  call  jelly,  scientific  men 
call  gelatine,  and  as  gelatine  is  drawn  from  the  bones,  it 
is  apparently  because  it  is  contained  in  them.  In  so 
great  a  degree  does  bone  contain  this  gelatine,  that  the 
latter  forms  its  basis,  and  the  earthy  substance,  phos- 
phate of  lime,  which  by  degrees  hardens  it  into  bone,  is 
only,  so  to  speak,  a  stranger  who  comes  to  lodge  little 
by  little  within  the  flexible  meshes  of  the  gelatinous 
tissue. 

You  will,  perhaps,  hardly  believe,  upon  looking  at  a 
ham  or  mutton  bone,  that  any  soft  substance  is  contained 
within  the  bone.  We  have,  however,  a  very  easy  method 
of  ascertaining  this,  which  I  will  explain  to  you ;  it 
will  give  you  an  idea  of  the  way  in  which  people  set 
about  discovering  what  is  hidden  within  a  variety  of 
bodies. 

A  naughty  woman  once  upon  a  time  gave  her  little 
girl  a  cup  filled  with  powdered  sugar  and  marble  dust 
mixed  together,  telling  her  she  should  have  nothing  to 
eat  until  she  had  separated  all  the  marble  dust  without 
losing  a  grain,  and  without  leaving  any  sugar  among  it. 
Many  children  in  her  place  would  have  been  puzzled 
how  to  act,  and  would  probably  have  gone  supperless  to 
bed  ;  but  this  little  girl,  who  had  plenty  of  common 


22  THE   BONES. 

sense,  was  not  going  to  starve  for  such  a  trifle,  so  she 
emptied  the  contents  of  the  cup  into  a  large  jug  of  water, 
when  all  the  sugar  melted,  and  the  marble  dust  was  soon 
left  all  alone  at  the  bottom  of  the  jug,  not  a  grain  of  it 
missing,  nor  an  atom  of  sugar  remaining. 

Those  who  discovered  the  means  of  separating  the 
gelatine  from  its  earthy  companion  were  equally  intel- 
ligent with  the  little  girl.  There  is  a  liquid  which  has 
no  effect  upon  gelatine,  and  in  which  the  earthy  sub- 
stance with  which  it  is  filled,  melts  exactly  as  sugar  does 
in  water  ;  this  is  called  muriatic  acid,  a  difficult  name, 
but  I  cannot  alter  it.  Allow  the  bone,  which  seems  to 
you  so  hard,  to  soak  for  a  certain  time  in  some  of  this 
liquid.  When  you  take  it  out  it  will  be  supple  and  flex- 
ible, will  still  retain  its  shape,  but  it  will  be  reduced  to 
a  gelatinous  tissue,  retaining  no  trace  of  the  earthy  sub- 
stance which  had  taken  up  its  abode  within  its  meshes. 

Whilst  the  bone  is  in  this  state,  try  to  break  it  by 
throwing  it  on  the  ground  ;  you  will  never  succeed, 
though  it  will  bend,  and  even  rebound  like  a  piece  of 
indian-rubber. 

Well,  then,  in  children  the  gelatine  of  the  bones  has 
not  acquired  its  consistency,  there  are  parts  even 
where  only  gelatine  is  to  be  found  ;  for  instance,  at  the 
extremities  of  the  arms  and  legs,  which  only  become 
perfectly  hard  at  about  the  age  of  twenty-one.  This 
is  about  the  period  when  persons  cease  to  grow,  be- 
cause the  work  of  growth,  which  takes  place  in  the 
soft  parts  of  the  bones,  ceases  as  soon  as  they  become 
hard. 

Let  me  give  you  an  example  that  will  prove  the  prim- 
itive softness  of  the  bone  in  certain  parts  of  the  body. 
Place  your  hand  gently  upon  the  top  of  the  head  of  a 
very  young  child  as  it  lies  in  its  nurse's  arms  ;  you  will 


THE   BONES.  23 

feel  the  substance  yield  under  the  pressure  of  your  finger, 
as  if  the  bony  arch  of  the  skull  was  not  complete,  and  in 
reality,  at  this  period  of  existence,  the  different  portions 
of  which  the  skull  is  formed  are  only  joined  together  by 
a  species  of  gelatinous  membrane,  or,  as  it  is  termed  by 
medical  men,  the  fontanelle,  or  opening  of  the  head  ; 
from  this  it  results  that  the  skull  yields  to  the  slightest 
pressure,  and  may  be  moulded  with  the  hand  to  any 
form  you  wish.  It*  is  said,  that  the  American  savages 
take  advantage  of  this  softness  of  the  skull  to  flatten 
their  childrens'  heads  in  infancy,  according  to  the  fashion 
of  the  tribe  to  which  they  belong.  But  it  is  a  barbarous 
practice,  from  which  the  poor  little  creatures  derive  no 
benefit,  for  who  ever  gains  by  violently  trying  to  alter 
the  order  established  by  Him  who  formed  the  human 
frame,  and  who  knows  what  is  best  for  each  of  His 
children  ? 

To  go  back  to  our  gelatine,  you  can  understand  that 
so  long  as  it  remains  free  in  a  portion  of  the  bones,  the 
latter  preserve  a  certain  degree  of  elasticity,  and  then  is 
the  time  one  can  fall  with  the  least  chance  of  endanger- 
ing a  limb.  Still  do  not  trust  to  this,  and  be  too  rash, 
for  should  the  fall  be  severe  they  will  break  even  in 
children  at  their  already  hardened  portions.  If  some 
heedless  persons  have  the  good  fortune  to  escape,  as  your 
humble  servant  did,  others  are  occasionally  maimed  for 
the  rest  of  their  lives,  which  is  neither  amusing  to  them- 
selves nor  their  relations. 

In  proportion  as  a  child  progresses  towards  manhood, 
the  earthy  deposit  is  always  increasing.  It  is  about  two- 
thirds  of  the  weight  of  the  bone  in  an  adult,  which,  you 
must  know,  is  a  term  applied  to  persons  supposed  to  have 
attained  their  full  growth.  At  this  period,  the  bones 
being  much  less  flexible  will  more  readily  snap.  Later 


24  THE   BONES. 

in  life,  as  old  age  comes  on,  the  proportion  of  gelatine 
gradually  diminishes,  and  the  bones  become  exceedingly 
brittle.  Thus  you  will  understand  how  carefully  elderly 
people  should  be  saved  from  all  risk  of  a  fall,  to  sa^ 
nothing  of  the  respect  and  attention  due  to  age. 

I  need  scarcely  tell  you  that  gelatine  is  not  found 
within  the  bone  in  the  same  form  as  that  in  which  you 
are  accustomed  to  see  it  on  the  table.  If  it  were  it  could 
not  have  much  strength  or  solidity.  It  is  condensed  in 
the  bones  in  a  compact,  elastic,  and  resisting  mass  of 
shining,  pearly  white  matter  or  substance,  which  is  called 
cartilage.  Take  hold  of  the  tip  of  your  ear  and  the  end 
of  your  nose,  and  you  will  feel  what  is  called  cartilage. 
The  substance  on  the  end  of  a  knuckle  of  veal,  which 
you  sometimes  crunch  between  your  teeth,  is  also  carti- 
lage ;  and,  to  give  you  one  more  example,  let  me  mention 
the  bones  of  the  skate,  which  may  be  crunched,  and  are 
all  cartilaginous. 

It  is  desirable  you  should  know  that  the  globules  of 
blood  (a  history  of  which  I  have  already  given  you  at 
some  length)  do  not  enter  within  the  cartilages.  The 
blood  penetrates  into  them,  no  doubt,  seeing  they  are 
formed  and  kept  up  by  it ;  but  it  is  the  serum  only  to 
which  admission  is  granted,  the  globules  being  left  at 
the  entrance.  Kead  over  again  the  chapter  on  "  The 
Composition  of  the  Blood,"  if  you  do  not  clearly  recollect 
what  I  mean  by  serum.* 

Why  this  exclusion  of  the  globules  ?  I  cannot  tell 
you ;  for  the  canals  which  convey  the  serum  are  assu- 
redly sufficiently  large  to  allow  the  globules  to  enter. 
For  information  on  this  subject,  I  must  refer  you  to  one 
of  my  former  lessons  on  the  "  Nutrition  of  the  Organs," 
in  which  the  history  of  the  bones  was  only  touched  upon. 
*  See  "  A  Mouthful  of  Bread,"  page  234. 


THE   BONES.  25 

I  there  told  you  how  each  of  our  organs  has  its  own 
peculiar  preferences,  and  takes  from  the  blood  only  the 
portion  suited  to  it ;  like  dainty  persons  who  select  at 
dinner  from  the  different  dishes,  and  will  not  eat  of  all 
which  come  to  table.  It  seems  the  cartilage  belongs  to 
this  dainty  class,  and  that  the  globules,  so  highly  appre- 
ciated elsewhere,  are  not  suited  to  its  taste.  This  is  the 
only  reason  I  can  give  you. 

The  extremities  of  the  bones  which  meet  at  your  el- 
bow— I  only  mention  these,  but  .the  others  have  passed 
through  the  same  stages — these  extremities  at  the  time 
of  your  birth  were  nothing  but  cartilage.  By  degrees 
these  cartilages  have  strengthened  ;  they  have  passed 
from  a  pearly  clear  white  to  a  dull  thick  white  ;  then 
they  have  taken  a  yellow  tinge  ;  at  last,  one  fine  day,  a 
red  spot  suddenly  appeared.  This  spot  was  formed  by 
the  globules  of  blood  that  had  effected  an  entrance:  At 
your  present  age,  thoughts  enter  you  head  which  you 
would  not  have  listened  to  when  you  were  younger. 
This  is  what  has  taken  place  in  your  elbow  with  the 
cartilages.  Grown  strong,  they  have  listened  to  reason, 
and  have  opened  a  way  to  these  energetic  globules,  which 
only  asked  permission  to  enter,  in  order  to  transform 
them  into  a  state  of  bone,  and  to  do  the  duty  bone  is 
expected  to  perform.  The  globules  immediately  set 
themselves  to  their  work,  and  began  to  manufacture  what 
appeared  like  a  star,  the  rays  issuing  from  which  were 
of  a  stony  nature,  small  in  number  and  thin  at  first,  but 
which,  increasing  and  multiplying,  finished  at  length  by 
uniting  and  incrusting  the  end  of  the  cartilage.  This 
work,  which  is  called  the  work  of  ossification,  has  been 
going  on  within  you  ever  since,  and  the  earthy  deposit 
is  constantly  gaining  upon  the  cartilage.  When  you 
perceive  by  your  dresses  that  you  have  stopped  growing, 
2 


26  THE   BONES. 

you  may  take  it  for  granted  that  the  incrustation  is  com- 
plete, and  the  bone  at  the  extremity  firmly  unites  to  that 
in  the  middle. 

Let  us  now  talk  a  little  about  this  wonderful  earthy 
substance,  which  the  globules  of  blood  manufacture  so 
artistically.  I  told  you,  in  its  proper  place,  when  speak- 
ing of  the  teeth,  which  are  quite  a  distinct  species  of 
bone,  that  this  was  phosphate  of  lime ;  that  is  to  say, 
phosphorus  and  lime,  combined  with  a  certain  quantity 
of  that  same  oxygen  of  which  we  spoke  so  much  in  refer- 
ence to  combustion. 

I  did  not  then  tell  you  all  I  had  to  say.  Phosphate 
of  lime,  it  is  true,  forms  the  principal  ingredient  in  the 
earthy  portion  of  bone,  but  it  is  not  the  only  element. 
Without  wishing  to  fatigue  you  with  a  history  of  all  its 
companions,  the  greater  number  being  insignificant  as 
regards  quantity,  there  is  one  I  must  mention,  because  it 
is  of  some  importance.  It  forms  a  sixth  part  of  the  in- 
gredients entering  into  the  formation  of  our  bones,  and 
we  shall  meet  with  it  again  by  and  by,  occupying  a  most 
important  position  in  shells,  which  are  the  bones  of  shell- 
fish, bones  which  are  to  be  found  outside  instead  of  inside 
the  animal ;  that  is  the  sole  difference.  This  is  carbon- 
ate of  lime,  the  result  of  the  marriage  between  our  old 
friends  carbonic  acid  and  lime. 

And  can  you  tell  me  of  what  the  Paris  houses  are 
built  ?  They  are  built  of  this  very  carbonate  of  lime 
which  the  globules  of  blood  manufacture  in  your  arms 
and  legs,  and,  what  is  more,  of  carbonate  of  lime  which 
is  manufactured  almost  in  the  same  way.  It  is  derived, 
in  a  great  measure,  from  an  innumerable  host  of  imper- 
ceptible animals,  each  one  of  which  constructed  a  shell, 
which,  in  dying,  he  left  behind  him.  All  this  took  place 
long,  long  ago,  much  longer  than  you  can  imagine  ;  and 
it  is  from  the  mass  of  these  shells,  hardened  by  time,  that 


THE   BONES.  27 

the  rubblestone  of  which  .almost  all  the  Paris  houses  are 
built  has  been  hewn.  You  thus  see  that  our  internal 
manufacture  of  stony  material  is  not  peculiar  to  man  ; 
but  that  this  same  manufacture  has  been  widely  spread 
over  the  earth  ever  since  life  had  its  beginning  there. 

The  phosphate  of  lime,  the  carbonate  of  lime,  and  the 
other  earthy  ingredients  glide  so  easily  through  the 
thickness  of  the  primitive  cartilage,  as  in  some  degree  to 
form  a  new  bone  enclosed  in  the  first,  and  which  in  its 
turn  can  be  separated  by  a  far  more  simple  process  than 
by  the  use  of  muriatic  acid. 

No  great  amount  of  science  is  required  to  discover 
this,  and  you  can  try  the  experiment  any  moment  if  you 
like.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  throw  the  bone  into  the 
fire.  The  gelatine  burns  and  is  no  more  seen,  the  earthy 
portion  only  remains.  Weigh  the  bone  before  you  burn 
it,  and  afterwards,  you  will  at  once  perceive  that  some- 
thing of  the  weight  has  been  lost  in  the  burning.  In 
other  respects,  its  appearance  will  be  unchanged  ;  only 
the  bone  will  be  drier,  more  porous,  and  more  brittle. 
This  will  easily  be  understood,  because  the  organic  sub- 
stance which  surrounds  the  bone,  with  its  flexible  and 
resisting  arms,  has  been  consumed  by  the  fire. 

If,  then,  we  have  within  us,  in  the  heart,  as  I  once  told 
you,  a  sort  of  vegetable,  a  kind  of  animated  tree  which 
sends  its  roots  to  the  intestines  in  search  of  sap,  and  its 
branches  to  the  lungs  in  search  of  air,  we  have  in  the 
bones,  a  mixture  of  several  minerals  where  organic  and 
inorganic,  or  dead  and  living  substances,  struggle  for 
the  mastery  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  life.  Man 
is  not  simply  the  king  of  creation :  he  is  an  epitome  of 
it,  and  little  girls  are  far  more  interested  than  they 
imagine  in  becoming  acquainted  with  everything  exist- 
ing in  the  lower  ranges  of  creation,  for  it  is  all  to  be 
found  in  their  own  bodies. 


CHAPTER  III. 

LIFE   OF   THE   BONES. 

THESE  stony  portions  of  our  flesh,  these  living  stones 
form  in  the  midst  of  our  organs  a  world  of  their  own, 
remaining  in  Home  degree  strangers  to  all  the  agitations, 
the  tremors,  and  the  movements  of  general  life.  There 
is  great  sympathy  between  the  different  parts  of  the 
body  ;  all  languish  or  prosper' simultaneously.  Our  or- 
gans are  a  society  of  true  friends,  who  grieve  or  rejoice 
together.  The  bones  alone  remain  passive,  while  all  else 
is  in  commotion  around  them  ;  they  are  like  unfortunate 
children,  with  hearts  of  stone,  who  never  trouble  them- 
selves about  anything  that  happens  to  their  companions. 

You  remember  the  day  when  you  cut  your  finger  so 
severely,  of  which  wound  you  still  bear  the  scar.  Your 
whole  dear  little  body  suffered  with  your  poor  finger. 
Your  lungs  and  throat  uttered  so  loud  a  cry  that  your 
mother  came  running  from  the  far  end  of  the  garden, 
whilst  your  cheeks  became  very  red,  and  scalding  tears 
rolled  down  over  them.  Your  legs  gave  way,  your  arms 
trembled,  and  if  any  one  could  have  put  his  hand  to  your 
heart  he  would  have  felt  it  beating  far  more  violently 
than  usual ;  and  as  you  had  just  dined,  your  stomach, 
which  was  quietly  carrying  on  its  duties,  became  disturb- 
ed to  such  an  extent  that  its  work  was  interrupted,  and 
you  had,  if  I  remember  rightly,  a  slight  attack  of  in- 
digestion. 

What  part  did  the  bones  take  in  this  general  agita- 
tion? 

(28) 


LIFE   OP   THE   BONES.  29 

None  whatever  ;  they  allowed  themselves  to  be  tossed 
about  right  and  left  by  the  convulsed  muscles,,  but  per- 
sonally they  did  not  suffer  the  smallest  emotion.  You 
would  know  nothing  of  all  this,  being  absorbed  in  your 
little  accident.  Try  and  take  notice  the  next  time  you 
cut  yourself,  it  may  divert  your  attention  ;  and  who  knows 
whether  thinking  of  the  calmness  of  these  unheeding 
bones  will  not  help  to  moderate  the  excess  of  agitation 
in  the  rest  of  your  body. 

It  would  seem,  at  first  sight,  that  the  bones  are  equally 
insensible  to  their  own  misfortunes  as  to  the  misfortunes 
which  overtake  the  other  parts  of  the  body.  In  those 
dreadful  operations,  when  to  save  life  a  member  has  to 
be  sacrificed,  whilst  the  whole  body  painfully  shrinks 
from  the  surgeon's  knife,  the  bone  may  be  sawn  with 
impunity,  so  to  speak,  for  at  this  moment  the  pain 
is  almost  null,  but  this  privilege  of  insensibility  is  but  ap- 
parent. I  think  it  was  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau  who  ap- 
peared to  such  disadvantage  in  viva  voce  discussions,,  and 
only  discovered  an  hour  after  how  he  ought  to  have  re- 
plied. This  in  no  way  detracted  from  his  eloquence  when 
he  answered  with  his  mind  in  repose  and  his  pen  in  his 
hand.  It  is  the  same  in  the  history  of  the  bone  ;  it  is 
dumb  whilst  the  saw  is  at  work,  but  vexes  itself  when 
all  is  over,  inflames,  and  then  becomes  formidably  elo- 
quent ;  you  must,  however,  give  it  time  to  inflame,  and 
this  is  not  the  affair  of  an  hour.  The  extreme  slowness 
of  its  actions  is  the  characteristic  of  the  life  of  the  bone  ; 
there  the  dead  crowd  so  closely  to  the  living  that  the  lat- 
ter is  benumbed,  and  sleeps  as  if  in  a  tomb.  This  is 
the  reason  why  the  bones  look  with  indifference  on  the 
general  excitement  when  any  sudden  accident  befalls 
the  body  ;  all  is  right  again  before  the  troubles  of  their 
neighbors  have  had  time  to  arouse  them.  But  in  chronic 


30  LIFE   OF   THE   BONES. 

cases,  or  illness  of  long  duration,  if  you  prefer  the  term, 
the  bones  ^some  times  end  by  partaking  of  the  general 
disturbance,  they  suffer  in  their  turn, -and  become  the 
scene  of  frightful  pain,  against  which  all  medical  skill  too 
often  proves  powerless. 

One  circumstance  infallibly  rouses  the  dormant  life  of 
the  bones,  and  this  is  a  case  of  fracture. 

The  day  you  cut  yourself,  if,  instead  of  crying  so  much, 
you  had  spent  your  time  in  looking  to  see  how  things 
were  going  on,  you  would  have  observed  that  as  the 
bleeding  ceased,  a  kind  of  yellow  gluey  liquid  oozed 
from  the  lips  of  the  wound,  and  as  it  dried  up  soon 
indurated  them.  By  degrees  the  little  vessels  which  had 
been  cut  in  two,  hollowed  out  a  way  across  i^iis  thin 
pellicle,  and  rejoined  their  walls.  Like  a  good  work- 
man who  sets  to  work  to  repair  his  work  after  an  acci- 
dent, the  blood  connected  the  divided  fibres,  carrying 
away  by  degrees  the  coating  which  temporarily  held 
them,  and  now  if  you  have  the  curiosity  to  examine 
further  by  cutting  your  finger  again  in  the  old  place,  you 
would  satisfy  yourself  that  no  trace  of  all  this  repair 
remains  inside. 

The  bones  repair  their  injuries  in  the  same  way.  When 
they  break,  the  little  vessels  which  run  here  and  there 
in  their  interior  also  break,  and  the  blood  flows  as  when 
you  cut  your  flesh,  but,  of  course,  not  to  the  same  degree. 
Soon  a  yellow  coating,  like  that  which  healed  your 
finger  appears,  but  what  would  suffice  for  a  little  bit  of 
flesh  would  be  too  weak  for  a  heavy  massive  personage 
like  a  bone,  therefore  the  whole  history  of  ossification 
must  recommence  in  the  broken  part.  The  gelatine 
comes  first  in  order,  then  little  by  little  a  cartilage  is 
formed  by  the  exclusive  intervention  of  the  serum  ;  next, 
the  globules  work  in  their  turn  and  construct  a  bony 


LIFE   OF  THE   BONES.  31 

wall,  which  exactly  fills  the  breach,  and  at  last  permits 
the  bone  to  work  as  before. 

How  long  a  time  did  the  cut  in  your  finger  take  to 
unite  ?  Some  hours,  a  day  at  the  most ;  wounds  of  this 
kind  heal  quickly  at  your  age.  With  bones  there  is  so 
much  more  work  to  do  that  more  time  is  required,  and 
their  progress  is  very  slow.  For  a  man  in  good  health  it 
takes  from  two  to  three  months  before  the  cure  is  com- 
pleted, but  there  is  no  exact  limit  to  the  time  necessary, 
the  vitality  of  tha  bones  being  proportioned  to  the  ani- 
mal substance  they  contain  ;  in  elderly  people,  where 
the  gelatine  has  in  a  great  measure  given  place  to  the 
earthy  substance,  much  more  time  is  required  for  the 
healing  process.  We  read  of  fractures  coinciding  with 
certain  maladies,  which  have  required  six  or  eight 
months  to  consolidate.  Vitiated  or  enfeebled  blood  is 
like  a  workman  out  of  health,  who  works  without  ener- 
gy, and  is  always  behind. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  children  whose  blood  is  so  ac- 
tive, and  whose  bones  are  half  gelatinous,  fractures 
sometimes  heal  in  a  marvel ously  short  time.  I  know  an 
instance  of  a  little  boy,  who  for  fun  climbed  a  neigh- 
bor's fence.  Surprised  in  the  act,  he  jumped  without 
looking,  entangled  his  leg  in  a  cross-bar,  and  broke  it. 
Before  a  month  had  elapsed  he  was  out  limping  along 
the  road  :  this  was  certainly  too  soon  ;  under  similar 
circumstances  your  parents  would  have  kept  you  in  the 
house  much  longer,  for  a  bone  imperfectly  united  and 
used  too  soon  will  easily  break  again,  or  take  a  wrong 
direction,  and  the  second  injury  is  more  difficult  to  repair 
than  the  first. 

You  perhaps  have  seen  a  broken  limb  ;  if  so,  'you  will 
understand  why  they  bandage  it  between  splints  of  wood 
so  as  to  prevent  all  movement.  The  slightest  motion 


32  LIFE   OF   THE   BONES. 

displacing  the  two  pieces  of  bone  laid  together  would 
derange  the  whole  operation,  which  would  require  to  be 
recommenced,  and  if  too  often  repeated  the  bone  would 
not  unite  at  all.  The  blood  becomes  discouraged  if  its 
work  is  too  often  undone  ;  it  is  no  longer  found  equally 
capable  of  action,  and  at  length  leaves  its  work  half 
finished  ;  in  this  case  it  unites  the  two  broken  ends  in  a 
clumsy  manner,  joining  them  by  means  of  a  species  of 
fibre,  as  a  driver  repairs  his  shaft,  which  has  been  broken 
on  the  road,  with  cords,  and  the  limb  has  to  move  along 
as  best  it  can. 

Dp  not  forget  all  this  if  you  meet  with  an  accident 
Take  care  not  to  stir  your  foot,  if  it  is  your  leg  that  is 
broken,  nor  your  hand  if  it  is  your  arm,  they  .might 
either  of  them  in  the  movement  displace  or  draw  aside 
the  portion  of  the  bone  next  to  them  ;  and  do  you  know 
what  would  happen  if  the  two  broken  extremities  were 
to  separate  from  each  other  ?  The  uniting  ligature 
would  be  pushed  to  one  side,  and  the  globules  arriving, 
would  ossify  it,  and  at  last  one  leg  would  be  found 
shorter  than  the  other.  It  is  very  tiresome  for  a  little 
girl  to  remain  for  several  weeks  upon  the  sofa,  but  it 
would  be  still  more  trying  for  a  young  lady,  when  asked 
to  dance,  always  to  rise  with  a  limp,  and  be  obliged  to 
admit  that  it  is  her  own  fault  that  she  does  so. 

The  repair  accomplished  by  the  blood  when  its  previ- 
ous work  has  been  damaged  or  destroyed  will  appear 
quite  simple,  if  you  recollect  what  I  told  you  of  its  two- 
fold duties  as  constructor  and  demolisher.  It  incessantly 
destroys  our  bones,  and  as  incessantly  renews  them,  so 
we  ought  not  to  be  at  all  puzzled  when  any  addition  is 
required — this  is  a  game  it  is  quite  accustomed  to. 
What  would  you  say  if  I  were  to  tell  you  the  way  in 
which  these  demolitions  and  these  reconstructions  are 


LIFE   OF   THE   BONES.  33 

continually  carried  on  ?  You  would  open  your  large 
eyes,  and  think  I  was  making  fun  of  you.  It  does  not 
appear  very  easy  to  ascertain  what  takes  place  in  the 
depths  of  your  bones,  where  the  eye,  if  it  could  penetrate, 
would  see  nothing.  Nevertheless,  we  know  what  goes 
on  most  positively.  Listen,  then,  for  it  is  a  history  which 
is  worth  the  trouble  of  hearing. 

You  must  first  call  to  your  recollection  what  I  told 
you  last  time  about  the  gelatine  and  globules  ;  about 
the  different  appetites  of  our  organs,  one  of  which  takes 
this,  and  the  other  that  out  of  the  blood.  It  is  owing  to 
this  mysterious  instinct  that  each  one  is  fitted  for  per- 
forming its  allotted  task,  and  if  we  consider  this  prop- 
erly we  shall  find  it  could  not  be  otherwise,  our  body 
would  be  only  a  uniform  block  without  this  intelligent 
distribution  of  the.  materials  of  which  it  is  composed. 
But  there  is  something  besides  this.  Independently  of 
those  wants  which  it  is  requisite  to  satisfy,  the  organs 
have  their  fancies  as  pretty  little  girls  have.  Among 
the  multitude  of  substances  which  may  find  their  way 
into  the  body  under  one  pretext  or  another,  there  are 
some  which  are  seized  upc\n  by  one  organ  only,  even 
though  they  should  not  be  necessary  to  it ;  even  though 
they  may  be  injurious  to  it  In  this  again  they  resemble 
little  girls.  To  bring  forward  a  very  inoffensive  exam- 
ple. The  madder  with  which  the  cloth  for  soldiers'  uni- 
forms is  dyed  red,  owes  this  honor  to  what  dyers  call  a 
coloring  principle,  which  is  spread  throughout  all  parts 
of  the  plant,  so  if  an  animal  eats  madder,  this  coloring 
principle  which  enters  into  the  body,  and  which  the  other 
organs  do  not  like — the  bones  have  the  coquetry  to  ab- 
sorb on  its  passage  to  give  them  a  fine  red  color.  Where, 
I  ask,  will  coquetry  end  ?  "We  are  indebted  to  it  for  this 
secret. 

2* 


34  LIFE   OF   THE  BONES. 

An  experiment  was  made  by  feeding  some  pigeons  on 
madder,  and  afterwards  killing  them  to  see  the  effect 
produced.  In  those  fed  for  some  time  on  this  diet,  the 
bones  were  quite  red  ;  in  those  birds  which  had  been  fed 
thus  for  several  days,  the  surface  only  of  the  bones  was 
red ;  when  madder  and  the  usual  food  had  been  em- 
ployed alternately  every  fortnight,  alternate  layers  of  red 
and  white  were  found  upon  sawing  the  bone,  correspond- 
ing to  the  different  periods ;  lastly,  in  birds  fed  upon 
madder  for  a  certain  time  and  then  restored  to  their 
customary  food,  the  bones  were  quite  white,  the  redness 
having  departed,  though  traces  of  it  were  discernible 
upon  a  cloje  examination  of  the  heart  of  the  bones,  for 
the  old  layers  disappear  from  the  centre  in  proportion 
as  new  ones  deposit  themselves  on  the  surface. 

Our  bony  framework,  then,  follows  very  nearly  the 
same  laws  in  its  formation  as  does  the  ligneous  portion 
of  vegetables,  the  solid  part  of  which  also  increases  by 
the  deposit  of  superficial  layers  advancing  regularly 
towards  the  interior  or  from  without  inwards,  in  conse- 
sequence  of  the  accumulation  of  the  successive  layers 
which  are  continually  being  formed.  There  is  this  dif- 
ference, however  ;  in  the  bone  which  belongs  to  a  supe- 
rior order  of  existence  we  remark  two  kinds  of  move- 
ment, one  implying  ingress  the  other  egress,  while  the 
life  of  wood,  more  simple  in  its  nature,  is  satisfied  with 
the  accumulation  of  new  layers  on  its  surface  without 
interfering  with  the  old  ones,  which  death  only  destroys. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  can  show  you  another  very  curious 
point  of  resemblance  between  bone  and  wood. 

I  have  already  told  you  that  wood  is  produced  year 
by  year  by  the  bark  of  the  tree.  The  bone  also  has  its 
bark  which  produces  it,  but  without  intermission,  as  in 
this  hot-house  of  ours,  always  heated  to  98°  Fahrenheit, 


LIFE   OF   THE   BONES.  35 

winter  is  quite  unknown.  It  is  a  membrane  surrounding 
the  bone  called  the  periosteum,  a  Greek  word,  but  easy 
to  remember,  meaning  "  around  the  bone." 

All  the  small  arteries  of  the  surrounding  parts  send 
their  last  ramifications  into  the  periosteum,  which  last 
becomes  swollen  by  the  blood,  as  the  bark  is  swollen 
with  sap,  and  both  work  exactly  on  the  same  plan. 

If  I  had  entered  more  particularly  into  the  history  of 
'the  formation  of  wood,  I  should  have  told  you  that  a 
sOrt  of  preparatory  wood  is  formed  between  the  bark 
and  the  ligneous  portion  called  sapwood,  which,  after 
remaining  white  and  soft  for  a  certain  time,  becomes 
hard  wood,  as  it  is  called. 

What  is  directly  formed  from  the  periosteum  is  really 
like  sapwood  in  its  nature. 

What  is  a  cartilage  ?  You  know  now,  it  is  a  bone  in 
process  of  formation.  Now  in  the  first  half  of  human 
life,  a  thin  layer  of  cartilage  is  formed  under  the  perios- 
teum, the  interior  of  which  gradually  ossifies,  and  which 
is  always  being  reproduced  at  the  exterior  surface  until 
the  growth  of  the  bone  is  completed.  Later  on,  the 
periosteum  itself  ossifies  in  its  turn,  so  much  so,  that  in 
the  end  it  is  almost  impossible  to  separate  it  from  the 
bone  with  which  it  seems  to  identify  itself,  its  work  of 
construction  languishes,  and  by  degrees  ceases,  and  owing 
to  the  interior  destruction  always  continuing,  the  bones 
of  old  people  gradually  become  thinner,  and  this  is 
another  cause  of  their  fragility. 

You  see  now,  that  I  had  some  reason  for  naming  this 
chapter  "  The  Life  of  the  Bones,"  though  probably  at 
first  it  astonished  you.  Remember  I  have  not  told  you 
all  that  is  known,  and  we  are  far  from  knowing  all  that 
may  be  learned  on  the  subject.  In  looking  at  one  of  the 
little  bone  figures  you  see  in  shops,  would  you  believe 


86  LIFE   OF   THE   BONES. 

the  story  of  its  having  lived,  of  its  having  issued  drop 
by  drop,  that  is  the  term,  from  a  membrane  which  is 
sometimes  thinner  than  a  sheet  of  paper,  and  that  had 
the  animal  lived  long  enough,  the  bone  which  it  repre- 
sents would  have  disappeared  little  by  little  in  the  blood ! 
How  many  things  which  closely  concern  us  we  are  igno- 
rant of,  and  if  we  have  already  found  so  many  curious 
particulars  to  learn  respecting  the  lowest  of  our  organs, 
those  in  fact  which  but  half  live,  what  will  it  be  when 
we  come  to  examine  those  which  are  in  some  degree  the 
seat  of  life  ? 


CHAPTER  IY. 

THE     MARROW. 

LET  me  now  introduce  you  to  an  intimate  friend  of 
the  bones,  I  mean  the  marrow,  which,  if  not  forming  a 
part  of,  dwells  within  the  house,  which  you  know  very 
well  by  name. 

The  marrow  is  a  species  of  oily  fat,  finer  and  more 
easily  melted  than  that  of  the  rest  of  the.  body,  and  is 
found  in  the  interior  of  all  the  bones.  I  must  here  say  a 
word  as  to  their  construction. 

Examined  through  a  microscope,  the  bones  seem 
composed  of  a  multitude  of  fibres  everywhere  the  same, 
which  are  sometimes  pressed  one  against  another,  form- 
ing what  is  termed  compact  tissue,  a  name  which  explains 
itself,  and  sometimes  crossing  one  another  in  every  direc- 
tion, forming  a  lighter  kind  of  tissue,  called  cellular  tissue. 
There  is  a  system  in  prison  called  the  cellular  system, 
because  the  poor  culprits  are  shut  up  in  separate  cells,  in 
the  hope,  it  is  said,  of  softening  their  natures,  provided 
they  do  not  die,  or  become  insane.  In  like  manner,  the 
cellular  tissue  owes  its  name'  to  the  empty  spaces  between 
the  crossings  of  the  fibres,  which  form  so  many  little  cells, 
through  which  the  canals  containing  the  blood  circulate. 
These  two  kinds  of  tissues  are  found  in  all  bones, — 
the  compact  at  the  exterior,  the  cellular  in  the  interior, 
but  in  different  proportions.  In  the  bones  of  the  skull, 
for  instance,  which  belong  to  the  class  of  flat  bones,  the 
two  exterior  plates  of  compact  tissue  are  in  such  close 

(37) 


38  THE   MARROW. 

contiguity,  especially  in  old  age,  that  it  is  sometimes 
difficult  to  find  traces  of  the  cellular  tissue.  The  latter, 
on  the  contrary,  predominates  in  the  short  bones,  such 
as  the  wrist  and  instep,  where  the  compact  layer  is  very 
thin,  and  only  looks  like  the  covering  to  a  mass  of  cells 
of  which  the  bone  is  composed.  Lastly,  in  the  long  bones 
of  the  arm  and  leg,  .the  separation  of  the  fibres  at  the 
two  extremities  there  determines  the  cellular  swellings 
organised  like  the  short  bones,  whilst  the  middle  forms 
a  species  of  tube,  the  sides  of  which  are  composed  solely 
of  a  compact  tissue,  thicker  even  than  that  in  the  flat  bones. 

Excuse,  my  dear  child,  this  dissertation  upon  flat  bones, 
long  bones,  compact  tissue,  and  .cellular  tissue.  There 
are  so  many  things  to  search  into  in  this  little  country 
we  are  exploring,  that  to  derive  benefit  we  must  tread 
in  the  steps  of  those  who  have  seriously  studied  them,  and 
all  who  desire  to  gain  knowledge  must  accustom  them- 
selves to  search  diligently  into  what  is  not  always 
amusing. 

To  come  back  to  our  subject,  the  marrow,  it  is  to  be 
found  everywhere,  whether  in  long,  short,  or  flat  bones  ; 
in  all  tissue,  whether  compact  or  cellular  ;  it  is  the  in- 
separable companion  of  the  bony  substance  in  its 
minutest  structure.  It  is  even  found  in  the  teeth.  If  you 
wish  to  be  convinced  of  this,  examine  one  of  those  old 
pieces  of  ivory  you  find  in  curiosity  shops.  Do  you  know 
why  they  are  so  yellow?  Simply  because  the  oil,  that 
is  to  say,  the  marrow,  which  is  contained  within  them  has 
become  rancid  from  exposure  to  the  air,  and  turned  yel- 
low, though  it  was  colorless  before.  Pass  your  fingers 
over  a  piece  of  polished  ivory  ;  it  is  the  marrow  it  con- 
tains which  renders  it  so  soft  and  unctuous  to  the  touch. 
I  once  told  you,  that  teeth  prepared  by  the  dentist  from 
the  tusk  of  the  hippopotamus  soon  turned  yellow  in  the 


THE   MARROW.  39 

mouth,  now  you  will  understand  why.  The  hippopotamus, 
like  all  aquatic  animals,  is  rich  in  oil.  You  take  no 
thought  as  to  what  may  happen  to  those  little  white 
pearls  which  look  so  pretty  when  you  laugh  ;  well,  sup- 
posing one  of  them  was  to  fall  out  now,  and  you  kept  it, 
it  would  grow  old  as  you  do,  and  by  the  time  you  become 
a  grandmother,  would  be  quite  yellow. 

If  the  marrow  succeeds  in  establishing  itself  in  the 
tissue  of  the  teeth,  which  is  by  far  the  most  compact 
of  all  the  tissues,  how  much  more  easily  will  it  find  its 
way  into  the  others,  which  for  this  reason  also  become 
yellow  much  more  rapidly  than  the  teeth  do.  Take  a 
bone  of  a  sheep  with  a  pair  of  tongs,  and  hold  it  over  a 
fire,  presenting  the  middle,  which  is  so  hard,  to  the 
flame,  the  heat  will  liquefy  the  marrow,  and  it  will  ooze 
through  the  imperceptible  holes  with  which  the  surface 
is  riddled,  and  falling  in  drops  on  the  fire  will  burn  with 
a  bluish  flame  ;  if  you  let  the  marrow  drop  into  the  fire 
from  the  thick  end  of  the  bone,  which  is  all  cellular,  it 
will  make  a  stronger  and  brighter  flame,  and  will  con- 
tinue burning  like  a  torch  after  you  withdraw  the  bone 
from  the  fire,  until  all  the  marrow  is  consumed. 

The  real  habitation  of  the  marrow  is  in  the  long  bones, 
the  hollows  of  which  are  filled  by  long  rolls  of  it ;  else- 
where it  is  scarcely  discernible,  lost,  as  it  is,  in  the 
depths  of  the  bony  tissue,  whereas  in  the  long  bones  it 
dwells  apart,  and  may  easily  be  seen. 

The  long  bones  have  a  small  opening  near  the  centre  ; 
look  for  the  hole  the  next  time  you  have  the  leg  of  a 
chicken  on  your  plate  ;  it  is  called  the  nutrient  orifice, 
because  it  forms  a  passage  through  which  a  large  artery 
feeds  the  captive  immured  within  this  stony  cylinder. 

Scarcely  does  the  artery  enter  the  prison  of  the  mar- 
row, when  it  suddenly  divides,  forming  two  branches, 


40  THE   MARROW. 

each  accompanied  by  its  vein,  the  one  running  upward, 
the  other  downward.  Arteries  and  veins  forming  innu- 
merable ramifications  envelop  the  marrow  in  so  tight  a 
network  that  it  acquires  a  red  tinge  in  consequence, 
more  especially  in  young  animals,  in  which  nutrition, 
and  consequently  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  is  more 
active.  Thus,  well  warmed,  well  fed,  and  sheltered  from 
all  accident,  the  marrow  lives  within  its  walls,  like  a 
mouse  in  a  cheese,  regardless  of  what  takes  place  in  the 
body,  and  doing  nothing,  at  least  so  far  as  we  can  see, 
though  doubtless  it  has  some  kind  of  work  to  do,  and  we 
could  not  with  impunity  suppress  this  lazy  marrow,  whicli 
seems  to  have  no  employment.* 

A  great  fright  seems,  however,  to  affect  it.  Have  you 
never  heard  the  expression,  "  It  froze  the  very  marrow 
in  my  bones  ?  "  Terror  stops  the  circulation  of  the  blood, 
and  accounts  for  this  feeling.  The  work  of  the  nutri- 
ment-admitting orifice,  or  the  opening  by  which  the 


*  An  ingenious  savant  conceived  an  experiment — they  call  it  an 
experiment ! — the  details  of  which  I  will  not  give  you,  for  I  do  not 
wish  to  set  your  hair  on  end, — in  which  the  marrow  is  suddenly 
destroyed  in  the  interior  of  a  bone,  of  a  dog  or  a  cat  it  is  true ;  the 
love  of  science  has  not  yet  led  to  the  trial  of  such  experiments  on 
men,  and  this  is  fortunate.  At  the  moment  of  the  experiment  the 
bone  dies,  but  a  very  singular  phenomenon  takes  place  afterward. 
The  periosteum  becomes  inflamed,  swells,  separates  itself,  as  it  were, 
from  the  dead  substance  beneath  it,  with  which  it  has  no  longer 
anything  to  do,  and  begins  boldly  to  fabricate  a  new  bone,  in  which 
the  dead  one  is  enclosed. 

This  is  a  beautiful  illustration  of  the  power  of  the  periosteum  in 
the  production  of  bone,  and  it  enables  us  to  understand  those  surgi- 
cal operations  recently  conceived,  in  which  the  destruction  of  a  part 
of  a  bone  is  remedied,  by  carefully  replacing  the  strip  of  periosteum 
which  covered  the  piece  of  bone  which  is  removed.  This  strip  of 
periosteum  fills  up  the  vacant  space  which  exists  beneath  it,  and  a 
perfect  bone  is  ultimately  the  result. 


THE   MARROW.  41 

nutriment  is  furnished,  is  interrupted,  and  a  trembling 
of  the  marrow  is  natural. 

This  reminds  me  of  a  popular  saying,  applicable  to 
people  who  are  wanting  in  energy,  i(  He  has  no  marrow 
in  his  bones."  By  what  instinct  do  those  not  versed  in 
anatomy  arrive  at  this  conclusion?  they  are  in  some 
measure  right.  In  delicate  and  rickety  persons  the  mar- 
row loses  its  fat,  its  virtue,  and  is  replaced  by  a  gelati- 
nous liquid,  sometimes  forming  three-fourths  of  the  whole 
original  quantity  of  marrow.  Little  children,  whose 
energy  is  not  very  great,  have  not  much  marrow  either, 
and  what  they  have  is  but  half  formed,  the  gelatine  and 
the  fat  being  about  equal. 

I  trust,  however,  you  will  not  lay  too  great  stress  upon 
the  popular  respect  for  the  marrow  ;  like  all  respect 
which  is  not  enlightened,  it  borders  upon  superstition. 
For  old  people  who  are  feeble  have  more  marrow  than 
younger  ones  ;  the  mass  increases  in  proportion  as  the 
space  which  it  has  to  fill  widens,  in  consequence  of  the 
thinning  of  the  bone  in  the  interior. 

The  Greeks  held  the  marrow  in  great  respect.  It  is 
said  that  the  centaur  Chiron,  the  preceptor  of  Achilles, 
fed  his  pupil  upon  the  marrow  of  -the  lion  to  make  him 
brave.  This  is  a  receipt  I  should  not  feel  inclined  to 
recommend,  even  supposing  we  could  acquire  the  proper- 
ties of  the  food  we  eat,  which  would  often  be  very  dis- 
quieting. Even  in  lions  the  marrow  has  nothing  heroic. 

But  we  have  said  sufficient  about  this  fat  inhabitant  of 
the  bones  ;  let  us  pass  on  to  a  subject  which  is  also  of 
great  importance — the  manner  in  which  the  bones  are 
attached  to  each  other. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

THE   JOINTS. 

HAD  your  arm  and  forearm  been  of  one  piece,  and  had 
the  two  parts  of  your  leg  formed  but  one,  you  would  not 
have  found  them  very  convenient ;  had  they  been  firmly 
fixed  to  the  body  as  the  branches  of  a  tree  are  fixed  to 
the  trunk,  it  would  have  been  still  worse  ;  your  powers 
of  mobility  would  scarcely  have  exceeded  those  of  a 
statue,  and  your  head  would  have  been  of  little  use  if 
unable  to  move  on  your  shoulders. 

It  has  been  wisely  arranged  otherwise.  Our  bony 
framework  is  composed  of  movable  pieces,  harmonising 
one  with  the  other  in  such  perfection,  that  no  machine 
invented  by  man  can  be  compared  to  it. 

At  the  present  day  we  have  machines  everywhere,  and 
I  am  sure  you  must  have  seen  one  at  work,  though  it 
may  Have  been  only  .a  sewing  machine.  What  a  noise ! 
what  shaking !  what  constant  friction  goes  on  among  the 
different  pieces  of  the  machine  as^  it  performs  its  duty  ; 
and  what  a  trifle  will  put  the  whole  into  disorder,  at  the 
very  moment  when  it  appears  to  be  working  rapidly  and 
perfectly. 

Now  place  yourself  by  the  side  of  this  noisy  assistant, 
this  sewing  machine  which  your  mother  has  bought,  in 
order  to  accomplish  the  extra  sewing  you  cause  her  ; 
and  while  it  is  in  movement,  do  you,  without  saying  any- 
thing, just  move  your  arms  and  legs.  There  are,  in  these 
also,  different  pieces  which  rub  one  against  the  other ; 

(42) 


THE   JOINTS.  43 

but  do  you  hear  the  least  noise,  do  you  observe  the  slight- 
est friction  ?  These  pieces  have  neither  screws  nor  nails 
to  keep  each  one  in  its  proper  place,  and  those  which  do 
the  most  work  scarcely  meet,  as  we  may  say,  at  the  ex- 
tremities. You  must  own  that  these  members  require 
to  be  fastened  firmly  together,  to  overcome  all  the  obsta- 
cles they  encounter. 

The  points  where  the  fastenings  are  found  are  called 
joints  or  articulations. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  joints,  movable  and  immovable, 
and,  without  going  any  further  for  an  example,  I  can  ex- 
plain them  to  you  by  means  of  knives.  Knives  are  also 
jointed  ;  they  are  composed  of  two  parts,  the  handle 
and  the  blade.  In  pocket-knives,  which  open  and  shut, 
the  position  of  the  blade  is  changed  at  will  by  turning  it 
upon  a  pivot  at  one  end  of  the  handle,  this  is  a  movable 
joint.  In  table  knives,  which  always  remain  open,  the 
blade  is  fixed  in  the  handle,  this  is  an  immovable  joint. 

The  skull  bones  belong  to  this  latter  class. 

The  different  pieces  of  the  skull,  as  they  lean  against- 
each  other,  form  a  kind  of  circular  arch,  behind  which 
the  most  delicate  of  our  organs  is  sheltered,  that  one  re- 
quiring the  greatest  protection,  viz.,  the  brain.  Think 
what  would  become  of  an  arch  if  the  stones  composing 
it  were  movable,  and  you  will  see  that  movement  in  the 
bones  of  the  head  is  out  of  the  question.  One  thing  is 
absolutely  necessary,  the  solidity  of  the  whole  ;  and  when 
we  consider  the  thinness  and  the  small  extent  of  surface 
where  they  meet,  we  should  be  tempted  at  first  sight  to 
ask  with  some  uneasiness,  how  bones  so  delicately  formed 
could  manage  to  avoid  overlapping  each  other  upon  the 
smallest  pressure  ;  when  we  examine  the  joints  we  are 
soon  reassured.  They  are  scalloped  by  a  number  of 
minute  zig-zag  indentures,  which  fit  into  those  on  the 


44  THE  JOINTS. 

corresponding  edge,  like  the  serrated  teeth  of  a  cog- 
wheel, and  dovetail  so  one  with  the  other,  that  unless 
told  beforehand,  you  would  never  imagine  the  skull  was 
formed  of  more  than  one  bone.  Now,  in  virtue  of  the 
constant  progress  of  ossification,  these  ^everal  bones  end 
really  in  becoming  but  one,  for  all  these  zig-zag  inden- 
tures finish  by  becoming  solidly  attached  as  age  ad- 
vances ;  and  the  absolute  immobility  of  the  articulations, 
even  when  the  bones  only  touch,  does  not  permit  of  our 
perceiving  the  change  when  they  really  become  united. 

The  movable  joints,  such  as  those  in  your  arms  and 
legs,  are  quite  differently  constructed. 

Place  two  bits  of  wood  end  to  end,  and  glue  a  piece 
of  linen  loosely  round  the  extremities,  and  you  will  have 
some  idea  of  the  way  your  bones  are  fastened  together. 

Only  the  linen  is  as  cobweb  in  solidity,  compared  with 
the  materials  nature  uses.  I  cannot  show  you  those  at 
your  elbow,  your  shoulder,  your  knee,  etc.  I  sincerely 
hope  you  may  never'  see  them  ;  still  there  are  some  ex- 
actly like  them  which  you  must  have  already  seen. 

In  cutting  up  a  fowl,  the  famous  joint,  the  speedy  dis- 
covery of  which  is  the  triumph  of  the  skilful  carver,  is 
simply  the  articulation  of  the  wing  or  of  the  leg,  and  the 
kind  of  skin  of  pearly  white  which  adheres  to  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  bone,  and  which  so  vigorously  resists  any 
effort  made  to  cut  or  tear  it,  is  the  material  or  membrane 
in  question.  You  can  easily  test  its  strength  the  first 
opportunity  you  have,  and  I  wish  f  ou  luck  with  it,  above 
all,  should  the  fowl  be  an  old  one. 

Science  calls  this  covering  of  the  joint  the  fibrous  cap- 
sule ;  it  is  a  small  closed  sack,  inside  which  the  extremi- 
ties of  the  two  bones  have  full  play,  without  being  able 
to  pass  certain  limits ;  they  are  not  retained  within  their 
allotted  space  exclusively  by  the  resistance  of  the  fibrous 


THE  JOINTS.  45 

capsule,  and  on  this  point  I  shall  have  more  than  one 
peculiarity  to  notice  when  we  shall  be  speaking  of  the 
bones  separately ;  nevertheless,  this  power  to  retain  the 
bones  in  their  places  is  the  special  function  of  the  fibrous 
capsule,  and  you  may  here  admire  the  wonderful  intelli- 
gence adapting  each  member  to  the  performance  of  its 
destined  duty.  The  fibrous  capsule  may  be  cut,  may  be 
attacked  by  substances,  which,  if  applied  to  other  parts 
of  the  body,  would  give  rise  to  great  pain,  without  evin- 
cing the  slightest  inconvenience.  It  sends  no  complaint 
to  the  brain,  where  resides  the  authority  charged  with 
the  care  of  all  parts  of  the  frame  ;  in  other  words,  the 
fibrous  capsule  knows  no  suffering ;  but  only  pull  the 
limb,  twist  it,  and  bring  about,  no  matter  how,  a  separa- 
tion between  the  ends  of  the  bones,  and  immediately  the 
brain  is  advertised  by  this  same  capsule,  which  instantly 
becomes  the  seat  of  intense  pain.  Like  a  stolid  sentinel, 
it  only  knows  its  own  password  ;  all  beyond  this  is 
nothing  to  it. 

Let  me  remark,  however,  that  this  pain  inflicted  upon 
the  fibrous  capsules,  which  retain  the  extremities  of  bones 
in  their  places  when  the  limbs  are  pulled  or  twisted,  is 
not  the  same  at  all  ages. 

These  membranes  are  much  more  supple  in  children, 
and  sometimes,  when  violently  strained,  stretch  to  an  ex- 
tent which  would  be  impossible  at  a  later  period  of  life, 
unless  by  violence  oft-repeated  we  force  them  to  take  a 
particular  bend,  which  they  ever  afterwards  retain,  in 
defiance  of  the  laws  imposed  on  them  by  nature.  It  is 
owing  to  the  suppleness  of  the  fibrous  capsule  in  youth 
that  mountebanks  are  able  to  exhibit  themselves  in  pos- 
tures which  would  completely  turn  the  heads  of  those 
who  might  attempt  to  imitate  them.  There  is  but  one 
age  for  an  apprenticeship  to  this  calling,  and  that  is  early 


46  THE   JOINTS. 

youth  ;  and  posterity  will  bleed  for  us  when  they  shall 
read,  in  history,  that  we  have  tolerated  such  cruel  prac- 
tices to  be  inflicted  on  helpless  children,  practices  which 
public  opinion  ought  to  have  suppressed  long  ago. 

These  fibres,  which,  unfortunately  for  the  poor  children, 
are  so  flexible  at  first,  are  not  long  in  stiffening,  and 
would  positively  refuse,  if  not  acted  on  at  the  right  time,  to 
yield  to  these  exaggerated  displacements  which  may  be 
obtained  of  them  in  early  youth.  As  we  get  older  the 
joints  acquire  strength,  they  gain  in  solidity  what  they 
lose  in  flexibility  ;  they  have  less  play,  but  they  work 
better. 

In  old  age  the  texture  of  the  capsular  membrane  be- 
comes extremely  rigid,  and  often  incrusted  with  phos- 
phate of  lime,  which  causes  old  people  to  move  about 
slowly,  and  often  with  difficulty,  feeling  it  painful  to  stoop 
to  pick  up  anything  from  the  ground.  Happily  there 
are  generally  children  at  hand  with  supple  fibres,  who  are 
glad  to  stoop  for  them. 

Up  to  the  present  moment  we  have  only  noticed  the 
exterior  of  the  joints  ;  we  must  now  look  into  the  little 
sack,  and  as  I  cannot  do  this  in  your  leg,  once  more  turn 
to  the  leg  of  the  chicken. 

Examine  the  point  where  it  is  detached  from  the  bird 
very  carefully,  and  you  will  find  the  extremity  covered 
with  a  white  surface,  elastic,  beautifully  polished,  round- 
ed in  the  form  of  a  ball  ;  you  will  further  see  that  this 
ball  fits  into  a  cavity  in  the  corresponding  bone  ;  now 
separate  the  joint  uniting  the  foot  to  the  leg,  you  will  see 
on  the  two  articular  surfaces,  ridges  and  grooves  as  if 
made  by  a  lathe,  which  are  adapted  to  each  other  with 
unequalled  precision.  You  have  but  to  pass  your  finger 
over  this  admirable  piece  of  work,  to  understand  at  once 
how  the  different  pieces  of  the  animal  machine  glide,  or 


THE  JOINTS.  4:7 

work,  so  easily  and  with  so  little  noise,  the  one  on  the 
other. 

These  bones  are  terminated  by  cartilages,  but  they 
must  not  be  mistaken  for  the  cartilage  found  in  children, 
of  which  we  have  already  spoken.  The  cartilages  of  the 
joints  are  common  to  all  ages,  and  form  an  essential  part 
of  the  articular  system.  Their  principal  office  is  to 
deaden  by  their  elasticity  any  shock,  and  thus  they  pre- 
vent many  fractures,  as  is  the  case  -in  machinery  where 
indian-rubber  bands,  buffers  as  they  are  called,  are  placed 
over  the  metallic  parts  at  the  points  of  contact.  Add  to 
this,  that  the  bone  itself  could  never  take  on  this  incom- 
parable polish  which  is  due  to  the  extreme  fineness  of 
the  cartilaginous  tissue,  the  meshes  of  which  are  so  very 
close  as  to  be  almost  imperceptible.  If  by  chance  the 
articular  cartilage  were  destroyed,  the  two  bony  surfaces 
would,  it  is  true,  acquire  a  certain  polish  from  constant 
friction  against  each  other.  Instances  of  this  kind  are 
recorded,  but  I  doubt  if  the  members  would  willingly 
accommodate  themselves  to  this  substitute,  and  the  facili- 
ty of  the  movement  must  assuredly  be  affected  by  it. 

There  is  yet  another  contrivance  which  probably  you 
do  not  suspect. 

We  grease  our  machines  to  facilitate  their  working. 
From  our  watch-wheels  to  our  door-hinges,  each  joint 
receives  its  proper  quantity  of  oil,  destined  to  make  it 
play  freely.  Nature  has  not  neglected  a  proceeding 
which  we  find  so  essential. 

Under  the  fibrous  capsule,  another  membrane  is  found, 
arranged  in  form  like  a  purse,  within  which  the 
joint  is  enclosed,  and  which  incessantly  distils  a 
slimy  liquid  called  synovia,  a  funny  word  to  write,  but 
quite  as  easy  as  many  a  child's  name  to  pronounce. 

Have  you  noticed,  when  travelling  by  rail,  what  took 


48  THE   JOINIS. 

place  when  you  stopped  at  the  principal  stations  ?  Did 
you  observe  men,  with  pots  of  grease  in  their  hand,  run- 
ning from  one  wheel  to  another,  opening  successively  the 
boxes  which  enclose  the  extremities  of  the  axles  ?  These 
are  called  journal-boxes,  and  they  must  be  looked  into 
from  time  to  time  to  see  whether  the  provision  of  grease 
requires  renewing.  The  purse  which  distils  the  synovia 
is  also  a  journal-box,  but  a  far  more  perfect  one  than 
those  attached  to  the  railway-cars,  inasmuch  as  it  is  self- 
replenishing  and  does  not  require  any  thought  from  us. 
Stop  a  moment  though  !  I  am  mistaken  ;  it  is  our  duty 
to  assist  the  action  of  this  membrane,  but  I  may  truly 
say  the  assistance  required  is  not  onerous }  it  consists  in 
moving  your  limbs  from  time  to  time.  However  small 
the  aid  you  render,  you  will  see  that  to  deny  it  altoge- 
ther would  entail  suffering. 

Have  you  ever  been  a  long  time  without  eating,  speak- 
ing, or  laughing,  without  moving  your  jaws  in  any  way  ? 
If  this  has  never  happened  to  you,  no  doubt  but  it  will 
some  day.  In  such  a  case  your  mouth  becomes  perfectly 
dry  after  a  time,  as  if  there  were  no  saliva  left,  and  in 
fact  the  supply  is  wanting  ;  for  the  salivary  glands  require 
encouraging  to  do  their  duty  by  being  constantly  exer- 
cised, they  sleep  if  left  to  themselves,  and  the  mouth, 
which  the  saliva  should  keep  constantly  moistened,  be- 
comes dry. 

The  same  thing  takes  place  in  the  synovial  membrane  ; 
the  discomfort  you  experience  when  you  first  begin  to  move 
your  limbs  after  they  have  been  sometime  in  the  same 
position,  all  proceeds  from  a  similar  cause,  the  journal-box 
is  dried  up,  or  rather  the  grease  has  become  thickened  for 
want  of  being  renewed — it  clogs,  so  to  speak,  the  articula- 
tion. When  the  synovia  dries  up,  it  is  a  terrible  affair  ; 
the  consequence  of  this  is  more  serious  than  you  can  im- 


THE   JOINTS.  49 

agine.  The  two  cartilages,  the  contact  of  which  nothing 
has  any  further  power  to  soften,  slowly  inflame,  swell,  and 
adhere  together  ;  instead  of  being  movable,  the  joint  is 
no  longer  of  any  use.  Do  not  be  alarmed  and  think  it 
dangerous  to  sit  quietly  during  your  lessons.  A  day,  or 
even  a  month  could  not  produce  such  a  sad  state  ;  such 
transitions  require  time  ;  the  bone  works  slowly,  as  I 
said  before.  To  produce  this  change,  a  long  illness  or  a 
stubborn  fracture,  keeping  you  close  prisoner  to  your  bed 
for  an  indefinite  period,  is  required ;  you  rise  with  an 
ankylose,  or  stiff  joint,  for  this  is  the  literal  meaning  of 
this  terrible  word,  it  comes  from  the  Greek  ankyle,  which 
signifies  joint. 

In  all  this,  dear  child,  I  see  an  interesting  lesson,  valu- 
able as  it  is  interesting,  if  you  will  only  profit  by  it. 
Your  membranes  and  glands  are  not  the  only  parts  of 
your  body  which  sleep  if  they  are  not  exercised.  The 
same  law  holds  good  with  your  whole  being,  and  our 
most  valuable  faculties  also  sleep  if  we  do  not  take  paips 
to  keep  them  well  employed.  Doctors,  in  cases  of  pro- 
longed immobility,  with  a  view  to  prevent  this  serious 
result,  where  it  can  be  done,  make  their  patients  perform 
all  sorts  of  apparently  useless  movements. 

I  wish  that,  in  accordance  with  this  example,  young 
people  would  only  feel  uneasy  whenever  the  opportunity 
for  doing  good  does  not  present  itself  frequently  enough, 
and  that  they  would  rather  seek  such  opportunities  than 
allow  their  kind-heartedness  and  intelligence  to  rust. 
Ankylose  of  the  heart  or  the  mind  is  far  worse  than  that 
of  the  arm  or  the  leg.  One  word  more  on  the  synovial 
membrane,  and  we  will  take  our  leave  of  the  joints. 

It  is  not  very  strong  ;  it  is  one  of  the  serous  tribe  of 
membranes,  so  called  because  they  distil  a  liquid  which 
they  draw  from  the  serum  of  the  blood,  they  look  some- 
3 


50  THE  JOINTS. 

what  like  a  piece  of  wet  bladder ;  well,  slight  looking 
as  this  membrane  is,  it  proves  when  necessary  as  good  a 
keeper  of  order  in  the  joint  as  the  robust  capsule  with 
its  indomitable  fibres. 

This  serous  membrane  and  the  soft  synovia  are  so 
closely  applied  to  the  articular  surfaces  that  they  let 
nothing  enter,  and  the  articular  surfaces  cannot  quit 
each  other  without  creating  a  vacuum,  and  you  know 
what  a  strong  antagonist  you  have  to  deal  with  if  you 
wish  to  produce  a  void  anywhere.  I  gave  you  an  in- 
sight into  atmospheric  pressure  when  I  spoke  to  you 
about  the  lungs.  The  full  pressure  of  the  air  is  behind 
this  feeble  membrane,  and  opposes  any  displacement  of 
the  bones,  which  are  thus  rigorously  kept  in  position 
even  after  the  fibrous  capsule  has  been  removed.  In 
such  a  case  the  most  violent  effort  will  not  always  sepa- 
rate the  joint.  Make  the  slightest  cut  into  the  synovial 
purse,  and  allow  the  air  to  penetrate  the  joint  which  it 
protects,  and  the  powerful  auxiliary  is  neutralised,  and 
the  object  is  accomplished  with  the  greatest  ease. 

You,  my  dear  child,  are  not  very  strong,  and  probably 
never  may  be.  Let  this  teach  you  what  energetic  resist- 
ance the  feeble  may  oppose  to  brute  force  when  the 
former  have  on  their  side  reason,  justice,  right,  all  those 
great  forces  of  the  moral  atmosphere,  the  irresistible 
pressure  of  which  is  everywhere  obeyed,  always  pro- 
vided their  natural  and  legitimate  action  be  not  broken 
in  upon. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   VERTEBRAL   COLUMN. 

HITHERTO  we  have  only  occupied  ourselves  with  what 
is  common  to  all  bones  ;  or  general  anatomy,  as  it  is 
called.  Now  we  pass  on  to  a  description  of  the  bones 
taken  separately — descriptive  anatomy,  as  it  is  called— 
and  you  cannot  imagine  how  many  pages  might  be  filled 
if  I  should  attempt  to  lay  before  you  all  that  could  be 
said  of  them.  The  body  of  a  man  is  certainly  not  very 
large,  and  yet  those  who  would  seriously  study  it  must 
spend  years  at  it  to  know  even  a  little  about  it.  So 
many,  so  various  are  the  details  in  this  admirable  ma- 
chine, of  which  each  atom  is  worthy  of  attention,  that  a 
lifetime  would  not  suffice  to  discover  all  that  is  to  be 
learned.  Still,  as  we  have  no  desire  to  become  physi- 
cians, we  will  proceed  more  rapidly.  It  is  a  little  satis- 
faction to  get  a  general  idea  of  a  subject  of  which  we 
knew  nothing  before. 

Let  us  begin  with  the  vertebral  column ;  it  is  the 
foundation  of  the  structure,  and  to  it  all  the  other  parts 
are  attached  ;  and  you  will  understand  when  we  come 
to  the  history  of  animals,  why  I  give  it  the  post  of  honor. 
You  already  know,  moreover,  that  this  column  has  given 
its  name  to  the  whole  class  of  vertebrate  animals,  begin- 
ning with  fish,  and  ending  with  man.  The  most  impor- 
tant and  marked  distinction  which  can  be  established  in 
the  animal  kingdom  is  that  of  vertebrate  or  invertebrate 
animals  :  that  is  to  say,  they  all  belong  to  the  one  or  the 
other,  according  as  they  have  or  have  not  a  vertebral 

(51) 


52  THE   VERTEBRAL   COLUMN. 

column.  In  classifying  animals  I  should  seek  another 
distinction,  for,  in  being  more  minute,  one  runs  a  risk  of 
getting  confused  and  bewildered. 

The  vertebral  column  is  situated  on  the  median  line 
of  the  body. 

This  expression  seems  to  astonish  you,  but  do  not  be 
alarmed,  I  shall  take  care  before  going  further  to  ex- 
plain this  important  median  line  to  you. 

Place  your  finger  exactly  in  the  centre  of  your  fore- 
head, run  it  straight  along  the  bridge  of  your  nose  to 
the  bottom  of  your  chin,  whilst  you  look  at  yourself  in 
the  glass.  You  will  at  once  see  that  each  side  of  your 
face,  right  and  left  of  the  line,  is  exactly  like  the  other. 
To  the  right  there  is  an  eye,  with  eyebrow  and  eyelid, 
to  the  left  there  is  the  same ;  on  each  side  there  is  a 
cheek,  beyond  that  an  ear  ;  your  line  separates  the  nose 
into  two  equal  parts,  and  a  glance  will  satisfy  you  that 
each  is  a  counterpart  of  the  other  ;  it  is  the  same  with 
the  mouth.  Now  take  notice  of  the  little  hollow  just 
below  the  nose,  in  the  centre  of  the  upper  lip  ;  you  will 
find  the  same  number  of  teeth  on  either  side,  incisors, 
canine,  and  molars,  all  placed  in  the  same  order  as  if  the 
two  parts  of  the  jaw  were  two  distinct  jaws,  united  so  as 
to  form  but  one. 

This  is  no  simple  supposition.  Nothing  is  easier  than 
to  perceive  traces  of  this  junction,  especially  in  the  lower 
jaw,  where  it  is  indicated  by  a  kind  of  ridge.  We 
sometimes  see  children  with  what  is  called  a  hare  lip, 
that  is  to  say,  with  a  cleft  in  the  centre  of  the  upper  lip, 
which,  in  certain  cases,  extends  far  into  the  palate  ;  if  it 
could  possibly  extend  farther  without  causing  death, 
and  a  curious  eye  could  pursue  its  track,  it  would,  in 
passing  between  the  two  uniform  parts,  reach  the  top  of 
the  skull,  which  at  the  centre  bears  the  mark  of  a  large 


THE   VERTEBRAL    COLUMN.  53 

weld,  dividing  the  skull  itself  into  two  parts,  of  which 
one  is  but  a  repetition  of  the  other. 

Let  us  continue  this  imaginary  division  throughout 
the  trunk  down  the  middle  of  the  neck,  each  half  will 
have  an  arm  and  a  leg  like  its  twin,  the  same  number  of 
ribs,  the  same  quantity  of  muscles  and  nerves  all  placed 
respectively  at  the  same  points.  The  conclusion  to  be 
inferred  is,  that  a  line  of  separation  traverses  the  whole 
body,  forming,  if  I  may  so  say,  a  limit  between  two  dis- 
tinct individuals  reunited  by  this  median  line.*  . 

Thus  the  vertebral  column  is  situated  on  the  median 
line  of  the  body,  and  I  need  not  again  tell  you  that,  like 
the  nose,  jaw,  and  skull,  like  everything  which  is  on  this 
line,  it  presents  on  either  side,  throughout  its  entire 
length,  two  surfaces  precisely  alike  ;  its  construction  is 
not  the  less  complicated  in  consequence,  and  requires  to 
be  explained  in  due  order. 

The  great  bone  found  in  the  centre  of  a  fish  is  simply 
its  vertebral  column,  and  it  may  give  you  some  idea, 
faint  though  it  be,  of  your  own.  You  know  how  easily 
it  can  be  broken  into  little  rings,  as  it  were,  pierced 

*  It  is  only  the  organs  of  nutrition  which  escape  the  law  of  equal 
and  symmetrical  division,  the  heart  being  on  one  side,  the  liver  on 
the  other;  the  intestinal  tube  is  rolled  up  on  itself,  and  yet  this 
irregularity  of  division  is  more  apparent  than  real.  It  arises  chiefly 
from  the  fact,  that  the  intestines  are  rolled  up  like  a  package  in  the 
cavities  which  they  fill,  and  if  we  stretch  out  the  intestinal  tube 
and  divide  it  lengthwise,  its  name  alone  (tube)  tells  us  that  we  shall 
find  in  it  two  halves  resembling  each  other  perfectly.  The  heart, 
the  lungs,  and  the  liver  are  double  also,  with  certain  inequalities, 
it  is  true,  as  regards  the  dimensions  of  their  parts.  The  arteries 
and  veins  are  pretty  equally  divided  between  the  two  halves  of  the 
body,  so  .that,  with  only  a  few  exceptions,  the  organs  of  nutrition 
seem  to  have  been  constructed  on  the  same  plan  as  the  organs  of 
relation,  and  to  be  formed,  like  these  latter,  of  two  organs  resem- 
bling each  other,  united  at  the  middle. 


54:  THE   VERTEBRAL   COLUMN. 

with  two  large  holes,  one  above,  the  other  below.  On 
dividing  these  bones  you  will  perceive  at  the  entrance 
of  the  hole,  a  kind  of  fatty  pulp  passing  from  one  bone 
to  the  other,  and  serving  to  unite  them.^  Each  piece  is 
surmounted  by  a  triangular  ring  hollowed  out  at  the 
base  of  a  long  straight  sharp  bone  ;  these  rings,  which 
follow  in  succession  one  above  the  other,  form  a  canal 
through  which  a  whitish  thread  runs ;  trace  it  to  the 
head  where  it  ends,  and  you  will  there  observe  a  gang- 
lion of  light  lines,  which  is  neither  more  nor  less  than 
the  brain  of  the  fish.  Do  not  be  angry,  for  a  fish  has  a 
brain  as  well  as  you. 

This  is  quite  a  course  of  anatomy,  is  it  not  ?  but  not  a 
very  terrible  one.  You  can  go  over  it  again,  when  you 
are  disposed,  the  first  time  you  meet  with  a  carp. 

Why  have  I  taken  the  trouble  to  say  so  much  about 
a  miserable  fish-bone,  which  you  throw  away  without 
looking  at  ?  Simply  because  all  these  details  are  to  be 
found  in  yourself,  increased  and  perfected  undoubtedly, 
as  is  to  be  expected  in  beings  so  superior  to  a  fish  ;  yet 
the  similarity  is  such  you  cannot  fail  to  recognise  it. 

The  piece  with  the  two  holes  is  here  called  the  body 
of  the  vertebras,  and,  between  ourselves,  it  bears  the 
same  name  in  fish  ;  for  we  call  indifferently  vertebras,  in 
all  the  vertebrated  animals,  those  numerous  pieces,  the 
uniting  of  which  in  them  forms  the  great  median  column. 
Scientific  men  use  the  same  terms  to  express  the  same 

*  On  looking  at  the  great  bone  of  the  fish  as  it  lies  on  your  plate, 
you  would  imagine  that  the  ring  in  question  is  placed  on  the  side  ; 
but  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  fish  do  not  appear  in  their  natu- 
ral position  on  our  tables.  They  are  there  lying  flat,  but  observe 
them  swimming,  and  their  position  is  just  the  reverse ;  they  cleave 
the  water  edgewise.  In  this  position,  which  is  their  natural  one, 
the  spine  of  the  great  bone  is  directed  upwards,  and  the  ring  very 
clearly  surmounts  the  round  piece. 


THE  VERTEBRAL   COLUMN.  55 

things,  irrespective  of  their  belonging  to  man  or  fish ; 
and  it  is  owing  to  this  general  classification  that  the  tiny 
kind  of  beads  which  you  separate  from  the  fish-bone,  and 
which  appear  insignificant,  has  the  honor  of  being  called 
the  body  of  the  vertebras,  as  much  as  if  it  belonged  to 
the  lord  of  creation. 

It  is  true  your  vertebral  column  is  not  hollowed  to 
receive  a  fatty  pulp,  which  we  find  serves  to  unite  the 
rings  of  the  fish-bone.  It  is  composed  of  a  kind  of  small 
oval  bone,  almost  entirely  cellular,  especially  on  the  two 
surfaces  above  and  below,  which  are  flat,  and  pierced 
by  an  immense  number  of  small  holes,  visible  to  the 
naked  eye,  as  the  microscopist  would  say.  To  these  are 
attached  fibres  of  a  peculiar  substance  not  to  be  found 
anywhere  else  in  the  body,  the  name  of  which  will  suffi- 
ciently indicate  to  you  their  mixed  character.  .  This 
substance  is  called  fibro-cartilage,  a  name  which  should 
not  alarm  you,  after  all  that  has  been  said  about  carti- 
lages, etc. 

This  fibro-cartilage  performs  in  man  the  same  office 
which  the  pulp  fulfils  in  the  fish-bone.  It  keeps  the 
whole  vertebral  column  in  its  place,  but  in  a  far  more 
energetic  way  than  its  representative  in  the  fish.  The 
fibrous  membrane,  of  which  it  is  composed,  adheres  so 
strongly  to  the  bodies  of  the  vertebras  which  it  unites, 
that  it  requires  enormous  strength  to  separate  them. 
Nothing  is  more  firmly  fixed  in  your  whole  frame.  They 
are,  however,  interspersed  with  pulp  similar  to  that  in 
the  fish,  which  is  whiter  and  more  abundant  in  children 
than  in  adults.  Therefore  at  this  moment  you  more 
nearly  resemble  fish  than  I  do  ;  not  that  I  feel  proud  of 
the  difference,  inasmuch  as  the  fibro-cartilage  owes  all  its 
suppleness  to  this  inferior  order  of  pulp,  whilst  we  men, 
in  whom  it  will  be  found  yellow,  thick,  and  hardened, 


56  THE  VERTEBRAL   COLUMN. 

should  greatly  prefer  resembling  the  pike  and  carp  a 
little  more,  and  thus  have  the  power  of  bending  our 
backs  as  easily  as  you. 

It  is  solely  owing  to  the  elasticity  of  the  nbro-cartilage 
that  the  vertebral  column  can  bend  forward,  for  the 
bodies  of  the  vertebra  are  in  such  subjection  that  none 
of  them  can  swerve  from  their  place.  You  will  pres- 
ently see  why  it  is  an  impossibility  to  bend  the  vertebral 
column  backward,  at  least  to  any  great  extent. 

These  elastic  cushions,  placed  one  above  another 
throughout  the  column,  make  some  difference,  as  you 
can  readily  imagine,  in  its  length,  and  consequently  in 
the  height  of  the  human  frame.  Thus  your  body  is 
shorter  at  night  than  in  the  morning.  This  may  sur- 
prise you,  but  it  is  a  fact. 

You  know,  by  experience,  that  a  spring  wears  out  with 
constant  use ;  that  old  worn-out  sofa-springs  cease  to 
yield  when  you  sit  down  upon  them.  The  same  change 
takes  place  with  the  springs  between  each  vertebras ; 
they  grow  weary  with  supporting  the  weight  of  the  body 
all  day,  and  at  night  become  weak  like  the  springs  of  a 
well-used  sofa.  This  is  why  you  regularly  shrink  in 
height  towards  evening,  principally  in  the  fibro-carti- 
lages  of  the  loins,  which  have  the  greatest  weight  to 
bear,  and  are  the  thickest  into  the  bargain.  No  sooner 
are  you  in  bed,  and  your  limbs  resting,  than  these  little 
magic  springs  begin  gradually  to  recruit ;  they  recover 
their  elasticity  during  the*  hours  of  slumber,  and  in  the 
morning  all  fatigue  has  disappeared. 

The  difference  in  height,  I  must  tell  you,  was  not  very 
evident  the  preceding  evening,  as  in 'a  small  column  like 
yours  the  contraction  is  very  trifling,  and  we  must  ex- 
amine very  closely  in  order  to  perceive  it.  Still  it  exists, 
like  many  other  things  which  we  pass  by  unobserved.  In 


THE   VERTEBRAL   COLUMN.  57 

a  tall  person,  the  difference  is  sometimes  very  marked. 
Buffon  asserts  that  he  knew  a  young  man  of  five  feet 
nine  inches,  who,  one  morning,  measured  only  five  feet 
seven  and  a  half  inches,  in  consequence  of  having  spent 
a  night  at  a  ball.  We  are  bound  to  suppose  that  he 
had  danced  a  vast  deal.  This  explains  the  story  of  the 
conscript,  who,  being  just  regulation-height,  walked  all 
night  before  presenting  himself  at  the  military  board  of 
examination.  He  gained  his  point,  for  he  was  no  longer 
of  sufficient  stature.  Let  me  observe,  however,  that 
such  changes  only  happen  to  young  people  in  whom  the 
fibro-cartilages  are  in  a  soft  or  pulpy  state.  Later  in 
life  they  are  too  hard  to  yield  in  this  manner.  It  is  not 
unusual  to  find  them  ossified  in  old  people. 

Speaking  to  you  of  this  conscript's  trick  reminds  me 
of  the  gigantic  skeleton  of  a  whale  that  was  exhibited  in 
Paris  a  long  time  ago.  I  still,  in  my  mind's  eye,  see  the 
place  where  it  was  shown.  Nothing  remains  so  fresh 
and  green  in  the  memory  as  the  souvenirs  of  our  early 
youth.  The  animal,  if  I  remember  rightly,  measured  150 
feet  in  length — double  the  size  of  an  ordinary  whale. 
The  public  never  regretted  the  money  they  had  to  pay 
for  a  sight  of  this  wonderful  phenomenon.  A  professor 
of  the  Zoological  Gardens,  puzzled  by  the  advertisement, 
was  enticed  into  the  booth  where  the  whale  was  shown. 
His  experienced  eye  discovered  the  deception  in  less 
than  two  minutes.  A  plug  of  cork  had  been  inserted 
between  each  vertebra  by  way  of  fibro-cartilage  ;  and  if 
the  skeleton  measured  only  150  feet  in  length,  it  was 
pure  modesty  on  the  part  of  the  exhibitor,  for  he  might 
as  easily,  by  lengthening  the  cork-plugs,  have  made  it 
200  feet. 

I  recommend  you,  in  studying  history,  to  call  to  mind, 
from  time  to  time,  this  story  of  the  skeleton  of  the  whale. 


58  THE   VERTEBRAL   COLUMN. 

You  will  read  of  characters  who  appear  unnaturally 
large,  but  wait,  before  judging,  to  ascertain  that  nothing 
has  been  inserted  between  their  vertebrae. 

But  we  are  playing  truant  a  little  with  our  fibro-car- 
tilages.  When  you  hear  ..their  names  you  will  not  think 
them  very  amusing.  Still  as  we  are  not  here  for  amuse- 
ment, let  us  at  once  return  to  the  vertebral  ring,  which 
we  seem  to  be  forgetting. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   VERTEBRAL   COLUMN — (Continued.) 

THE  human  vertebral  column,  like  that  of  the  fish,  is 
surmounted  by  a  throne-like  eminence,  from  which  it 
takes  the  name  of  dorsal  spine.  The  ring  formed  by  its 
being  hollowed  at  the  base  is  also  triangular — at  least  in 
the  greater  part  of  the  column — and  the  canal  running 
from  one  vertebra  to  another,  acts  as  a  channel  to  a 
whitish  cord  analogous  to  the  thread-like  substance  of  the 
same  color,  which  we  noticed  in  fish.  We  shall  say  more 
presently  about  this  cord,  which  is  one  of  the  great 
powers  of  the  body.  To-day  it  will  be  sufficient  to  teach 
you,  that  it  is  all  called  spinal  marrow : — marrow  be- 
cause, like  all  real  marrow,  it  resides  in  a  bony  canal ; 
spinal,  because  of  the  spine  which  protects  it  from  exter- 
nal shocks. 

Whilst  we  are  explaining  the  meanings  of  words,  ] 
may  as  well  tell  you  the  scientific  name  of  this  spine.  It 
is  called  the  spinous  apophysis. 

Apophysis !  would  it  not  be  a  pity  to  ignore  such  a 
word?  Eliza  is  a  pretty  name,  but — tastes  differ.  I 
find  apophysis  still  prettier,  although  it  comes  from  the 
Greek.  After  all,  the  Greeks  were  not  altogether  bar- 
barians. In  point  of  harmony,  their  language  must  be 
considered  equal  to  ours. 

Whether  you  consider  apophysis  harmonious  or  not,  it 
signifies,  in  English,  eminence.  It  is  a  term  applied  to 

(59) 


60  THE  VERTEBEAL   COLUMN. 

all  prominences  on  bones,  and  will  occur  at  intervals  in 
the  course  of  our  study. 

The  ends  of  the  spinous  eminences,  which  are  far  from 
being  finely  pointed,  being  placed  on  the  same  line,  meet 
whenever  the  column  is  thrown  backward,  thus  opposing 
an  insuperable  barrier  to  any  movement  in  this  direction. 

As  to  the  base,  it  enlarges,  in  the  shape  of  a  blade,  to 
form  the  walls  of  the  vertebral  canal,  and  presents  at  its 
four  corners  elongated  protuberances  with  a  smooth  sur- 
face :  the  exterior  surface  for  the  pair  of  the  vertebra 
above,  the  interior  for  those  of  the  vertebra  below.  By 
means  of  these  swellings  all  the  vertebrae  fit  firmly  into 
one  another,  the  smooth  part  of  each  pair  meeting  the 
corresponding  pair  in  the  neighboring  vertebra.  This 
is  why  they  are  called  articular  apophyses,  and,  in  fact,  we 
find  in  them  a  real  articulation,  with  its  gliding  cartil- 
ages, its  synovial  membrane,  and  its  ligaments. 

Other  ligaments,  which  enclose,  as  it  were,  the  bodies 
of  the  vertebrae  and  the  spinous  eminences,  or  apophyses, 
add  further  to  the  solidity  of  the  whole  ;  as  the  blade- 
like  parts  of  the  spine  are  not  exactly  adjusted  to  one 
another,  the  interstices  are  filled  by  ligaments  of  wonder- 
ful power,  which  effectually  complete  the  closing  of  the 
canal. 

It  is  a  long  time  since  I  first  became  acquainted  with 
these  ligaments  ;  they  attracted  my  notice  when  I  was  a 
child,  and  I  used  to  try  pertinaciously,  but  always  in  vain, 
to  bite  through  the  mass  of  yellow  fibres  which  we  some- 
times find  attached  to  boiled  beef. 

My  mother  told  me  that  it  is  called  the  tirant,  a  word 
which  appeared  to  me  then  very  appropriate,  and  as  the 
learned  men  have  not  given  it  in  any  of  their  books,  I 
have,  to  reassure  myself,  looked  for  it  in  a  pretty  little 
dictionary  that  I  have,  to  which  I  refer  occasionally 


THE  VERTEBRAL    COLUMN.  61 

when  I  am  at  a  loss  about  the  orthography  of  a  word. 
Here  is  what  I  found  : — 

TIKANT, —  YeUow  nerve  found  in  the  meat  of  the  butcher's  shops.  . 

From  which  I  concluded  that  one  should  always  mis- 
trust the  dictionaries,  especially  that  of  a  moins  que  ce  ne 
soit  celui  de  M.  Littre. 

The  learned  name  tirant  is  the  yellow  nerve ;  and  I  must 
say  that  I  find  the  name  charming.  I  must  own,  that  it 
strikes  my  eye  every  time  I  encounter  it  in  the  books, 
which  piled  up  before  me.  I  remember  my  earliest  studies 
in  Natural  History  and  under  whose  eyes  I  made  them. 

Having  given  you  a  general  description  of  the  verte- 
bra3,  the  different  kinds  must  now  come  under  notice,  for 
they  are  not  all  alike  ;  some  indeed,  among  the  number 
are  very  different  from  the  idea  you  will  have  formed  of 
them.  First,  then,  how  many  vertebra  are  there  ? 

You  probably  think,  with  my  experience,  and  so  many 
books  on  the  table  before  me,  that  I  can  at  once  answer 
your  question  ;  if  so,  you  are  mistaken  ;  with  only  one 
book,  I  should  feel  less  puzzled. 

Bichat,  a  genius  who  died  at  the  age  of  thirty-three, 
the  period  when  a  scientific  man  is  usually  but  in  his  ap- 
prenticeship, ranks  indisputably  among  the  masters  of 
modern  science.  Bichat  considers  the  vertebra  to  be 
twenty-four  in  number.  Milne  Edwards,  whose  authori- 
ty in  such  matters  appears  equally  reliable,  says  he  finds 
thirty-three.  I  should  like  to  name  a  still  higher  figure 
— not  on  my  own  responsibility,  rest  assured,  but  on  that 
of  Goethe,  Geoffry  St.  Hilaire,  Carus,  Owen,  and  other 
names,  the  enumeration  of  which  might  alarm  you  by 
their  number,  if  I  were  disposed  to  overwhelm  you  with 
a  display  of  my  learning. 


62  THE   VERTEBRAL   COLUMN. 

To  avoid  all  discussion,  I  will  begin  with  the  vertebras 
of  the  neck,  about  which  every  one  is  agreed. 

They  are  seven  in  number,  and  the  first  and  second 
deserve  a  special  mention. 

Be  honest,  and  tell  me  whether  you  have  ever  given 
yourself  the  trouble  to  remark  and  admire  with  what 
facility  you  turn  your  head  whenever  your  curiosity  is 
excited  ?  Perhaps  you  imagine  it  performs  this  move- 
ment without  any  assistance — that  it  is  its  own  master  ; 
if  so,  understand  from  this  moment,  that  all  its  move- 
ments are  the  result  of  a  very  delicate  mechanism  which 
it  is  most  important  to  comprehend,  especially  as  ignor- 
ance on  this  point  exposes  a  person  to  the  danger  of  un- 
wittingly killing  himself  in  some  cases  ;  or,  what  is  still 
worse,  of  taking  a  fellow-creature's  life  without  knowing 
why.  It  is  less  trouble  to  remain  ignorant,  but  ignor- 
ance is  not  always  bliss. 

It  is  not  the  skull  which  pivots  on  the  vertebral  col- 
umn when  we  turn  our  heads  ;  thanks  to  solid  ligaments, 
its  lower  extremity  is  firmly  fixed  in  two  pretty  deep 
hollows  made  at  the  apex  of  the  first  vertebra  of  the 
neck,  and  the  pivoting  takes  place  at  the  base  of  this 
vertebra,  which  accompanies  the  head  in1  all  its  move- 
ments. You  quite  understand  that  it  would  never  do 
here  for  the  body  to  be  firmly  held  by  the  fibro-cartilage, 
nor  for  the  apophyses  to  be  fitted  one  into  the  other. 
The  motion  of  the  vertebra  would,  in  such  a  case,  be  too 
circumscribed.  Thus  it  is  simply  a  bony  ring  partially 
rotating,  without  impediment,  on  the  vertebra  beneath, 
the  apophyses  of  which  are  flattened  obliquely  in  order 
to  leave  to  it  an  entire  liberty  of  action,  and  the  articular 
ligament,  which  is  very  supple,  readily  accommodates  it- 
self to  considerable  changes  of  position.  Finally,  to  sup- 
port the  circle  in  its  rotatory  movements,  and  to  prevent 


THE   VERTEBRAL    COLUMN.  63 

its  leaving  the  surface  upon  which  it  glides,  a  small  bony 
cylinder  springs  up  from  the  second  vertebra  just  be- 
tween the  two  hollows  which  receive  the  extremity  of  the 
skull,  and  acts  like  a  peg  upon  which  a  hoop  oscillates. 

Before  we  proceed,  let  us  inquire  into  the  names  given 
to  these  bones,  in  awarding  which  im  agination  has 
aided  science. 

You  have  an  atlas  of  geography,  but  can  you  tell  me 
the  derivation  of  its  name  ?  It  comes  from  the  giant 
Atlas,  who,  as  the  Greeks  say,  carried  the  heavens  upon 
his  back  ;  the  same  giant  who  was  afterward  trans- 
formed into  a  chain  of  mountains — the  Atlas  of  Algiers, 
the  name  of  which  has  been  given  to  its  neighbor,  the 
Atlantic  Ocean.  He  who  could  carry  the  whole  celes- 
tial sphere  would  surely  have  strength  to  bear  the 
weight  of  our  small  globe.  Ancient  geographers  used 
to  draw  the  giant  with  his  large  back  supporting  the 
globe,  hence  the  name  atlas,  so  familiar  to  all  geograph- 
ical students.  Ancient  anatomists  on  their  part  thought 
nothing  less  than  an  atlas  was  necessary  to  carry  this 
other  globe  which  we  all  support  on  our  shoulders ;  a 
globe  as  heavy  as  the  other,  when  we  take  into  consid- 
eration all  that  it  is  capable  of  containing,  and  they 
thus  gave  the  name  of  atlas  to  this  first  vertebra  of  the 
neck  upon  which  the  head  reposes. 

Speaking  of  geography,  you  must  have  heard  of  the 
axis  of  the  earth — the  line  that  runs  from  pole  to  pole, 
and  upon  which  the  earth  turns  during  its  revolution 
round  the  sun.  The  axle  of  a  wheel  is  the  axis  on  which 
it  turns.  The  second  vertebra  in  the  neck  is  also  an 
axis,  because  its  peg  is  the  pivot  upon  which  the  head 
performs  its  rotatory  movements.  Thus  they  have  named 
this  second  bone  axis,  a  Latin  word  requiring  no  further 
explanation. 


64  THE  VERTEBEAL   COLUMN. 

In  a  word,  this  little  bony  cylinder,  this  peg,  this 
pivot  which  renders  you  such  essential  service  when  you 
play  at  hide-and-seek,  has  been  found  upon  close  exam- 
ination somewhat  like  a  canine  tooth  in  appearance, 
with  a  protuberance  behind,  consequently  the  cylinder 
has  been  named  the  odontoid  eminence,  or  odontoid  pro- 
cess, a  Greek  word,  but  when  I  explain  to  you  that 
odontalgia  means  toothache,  you  will  understand  its 
signification. 

The  history  of  these  two  vertebras  does  not  end  here. 
Liberty  of  movement  is  a  very  charming  thing,  but  we 
are  not  permitted  to  enjoy  it  gratis  ;  liberty  and  wis- 
dom require  to  walk  hand  in  hand,  and,  notwithstanding 
the  ease  of  movement  peculiar  to  this  atlas,  a  single  act 
of  imprudence  on  its  part  might  prove  fatal.  It  has  no 
fibro-cartilage,  as  we  have  said,  to  keep  it  in  its  place. 
Our  friend,  the  yellow  ligament,  that  powerful  bond  of 
union  of  the  other  vertebras,  is  also  wanting ;  it  would 
be  too  troublesome  a  guardian.  It  is  true  that  the 
odontoid  or  tooth-like  apophysis  effectually  opposes  all 
backward  horizontal  movement,  but  for  upward  and 
downward  movement  it  is  like  the  hoop  kept  in  its  pro- 
per place  by  the  peg  ;  it  rises  the  whole  length  of  the 
protecting  cylinder,  and  loses  its  equilibrium  in  propor- 
tion as  the  top  of  the  cylinder  tapers  off  into  a  sharp 
point.  Suppose  now  that  the  head  were  violently  lifted 
up  at  this  moment,  it  would  drag  the  atlas  to  which  it 
is  fastened  by  ligaments,  along  with  it,  obliging  it  to 
leave  its  post  at  the  level  of  the  odontoid  apophysis.  In 
this  position  a  strong  shock  given  to  the  body  would 
displace  this  apophysis,  making  it  slip  out  of  the  ring, 
which  would  be  thrown  backward,  and  thus  produce 
strangulation  of  the  vertebral  canal.  The  spinal  mar- 
row, which  was  lying  at  its  ease  within  this  canal, 


. 


THE   VERTEBRAL   COLUMN.  65 

would  suddenly  find  itself  compressed  by  the  intruder 
invading  its  domains,  and  sudden  death  would  be  the 
result.  You  will  know  the  reason  of  this  when  we 
come  to  the  history  of  the  marrow. 

Always  remember  never  to  lift,  or  allow  another  per- 
son to  lift,  a  child  by  the  head,  as  people  often  do  with- 
out thinking  of  any  harm  or  risk.  In  more  than  one 
instance,  children  struggling  to  escape  from  this  un- 
pleasant position  have  been  instantly  killed,  in  the  way 
I  have  just  described,  at  the  hands  of  their  affrighted 
tormentors.  I  hope  you  have  never  watched  any  one 
kill  a  poor  rabbit,  but,  without  seeing  such  a  thing,  you 
will  be  able  to  understand  that  these  animals  are  de- 
prived of  life  in  a  moment  by  pulling  the  head  and  tail 
in  contrary  directions.  The  atlas  is  displaced,  and 
death  is  instantaneous. 

To  remove  any  uncomfortable  impression  resulting 
from  what  I  have  just  told  you,  I  will  give  one  more 
example  of  the  unconcern  with  which  people,  little 
thinking  it,  often  trifle  with  death.  There  is  a  game, 
by  no  means  a  pretty  one,  which  is  often  a  great  favor- 
ite with  boys — viz  :  turning  heels  over  head.  The  head 
is  placed  upon  the  ground  as  a  point  of  support  to  the 
whole  body,  which  passes  over  it ;  the  slightest  false 
movement  would  suffice  to  dislocate  the  fragile  joint  of 
the  atlas,  and  the  child  would  turn  over  on  the  other 
side  a  corpse.  Let  us  be  very  thankful  this  does  not 
oftener  happen.  Mothers  should  take  warning  ! 

You  see,  my  dear  child,  that  if  patience  is  required  in 
order  to  store  all  these  complicated  details  in  your  mind, 
all  these  new  words — fibro-cartilage,  axis,  odontoid 
apophysis: — which,  no  doubt,  are  rather  wearisome  to 
you,  in  spite  of  all  I  have  been  able  to  say  in  their  favor, 
you  see  that,  setting  aside  the  satisfying  of  your  curi- 


66  THE   VERTEBRAL    COLUMN. 

osity,  there  is  a  decided  advantage  in  knowing  how  you 
are  made.  Young  and  old  are  alike  interested  in  it ; 
ignorance  exposes  them  both  to  the  same  dangers.  "Were 
I  Minister  of  Public  Instruction,  I  would  have  these 
things  taught  in  every  village  school ;  and  no  one  shall 
ever  persuade  me  that  the  world  would  be  any  the  worse 
were  all  the  nursery  maids  made  acquainted  with  them 
for  the  good  of  those  intrusted  to  their  care. 

I  have  nothing  to  tell  you  about  the  last  five  verte- 
brae of  the  neck,  unless  it  be  that  they  are  smaller,  finer, 
more  easily  moved  than  those  in  the  rest  of  the  column  ; 
their  mobility  is  chiefly  owing  to  the  oblique  form  of  the 
articular  apophyses,  which  are  bevelled,  which  gives 
them  freer  play,  and  to  the  feeble  development  of  the 
spine,  the  points  of  which  projecting  but  little,  have  a 
longer  journey  to  make  before  meeting  each  other.  Thus 
the  region  of  the  neck  is  the  most  flexible  part  of  the 
whole  column,  and  if  the  movements  peculiar  to  it  were 
withdrawn,  only  leaving  those  of  the  atlas  upon  its 
axis,  we  should  find  it  inconvenient  to  look  behind  us. 

The  region  of  the  back  is  quite  another  affair  ;  in  it 
there  are  twelve  vertebras  which  scarcely  move,  so  firmly 
are  they  packed  together.  The  articular  surfaces  meet- 
ing in  a  straight  line  mutually  lessen  each  other's  power 
of  motion.  The  spinous  process,  being  elongated,  reposes 
on  the  process  of  the  vertebra  below  it,  and  partly  covers 
it.  All  these  taken  together  render  the  region  of  the 
back  almost  immovable,  and  not  without  reason.  Each  of 
these  twelve  spinal  vertebras  has  at  its  side  a  bar  of  a 
cage  we  are  soon  to  speak  of,  which  would  run  great  risk 
if  its  point  of  support  were  liable  to  move  sometimes  to 
one  side,  sometimes  to  another. 

There  are  only  five  vertebras  in  the  region  of  the  loins, 
but  each  is  six  or  seven  times  the  size  of  the  small  verte- 


THE   VERTEBRAL    COLUMN.  67 

bras  of  the  neck.  The  spinous  apophyses  project  consid- 
erably outward  ;  but  they  are  sufficiently  removed  from 
one  another  to  leave  the  vertebras  a  little  room  to  play, 
especially  the  first,  the  articular  surfaces  of  which  are 
slightly  rounded,  and  accommodate  themselves  more 
easily  to  a  gliding  motion. 

The  last  vertebrae  of  the  back  being  more  flexible  than 
the  others,  that  part  of  the  column  where  the  back  and 
loins  unite  has  the  most  flexibility.  "It  is  owing  to  this 
that  tumblers  and  jugglers  succeed  in  doubling  up  their 
bodies.  Nevertheless,  the  softness  of  the  ligaments  in 
early  youth  would  not  suffice  for  this  kind  of  work,  were 
the  miserable  creatures,  whose  trade  it  is  to  teach  it,  not 
aided  in  their  infamous  calling  by  something  else.  I 
have  already  told  you,  that  the  ends  of  the  bones  were 
in  the  first  instance  like  cartilage  :  now  the  large 
apophyses  of  the  lower  vertebras,  while  passing  through 
this  stage,  can  be  bent  in  any  position,  and  they  will 
afterwards  maintain  it  during  the  process  of  hardening. 
This  is  what  is  familiarly  called  breaking  the  backs  of 
the  poor  children.  Their  backs  are  not  broken,  as  you 
see,  but  are  pretty  nearly  so. 

Seven  vertebras  of  the  neck,  twelve  of  the  back,  dorsal, 
five  of  the  loins,  lumbar,  make  up  the  twenty-four  ad- 
mitted by  Bichat.  We  still  want  other  nine  to  complete 
the  thirty-three  Mr.  Milne-Edwards  assures  us  are  to  be 
found.  They  do  really  exist,  but  so  different  in  appear- 
ance from  the  other  vertebrae,  that  we  can  in  some  degree 
understand  the  scruples  of  the  great  anatomist  who  as- 
signs them  a  separate  place. 

First  of  all,  there  are  five  vertebrae  welded  together  so 
as  to  form  one  single  bone,  bent  inwards  at  the  base, 
where  the  vertebral  canal  terminates.  This  bone  is 
called  the  os  sacrum,  or  sacrum, — to  call  it  by  its  Latin 


68  THE   VERTEBRAL   COLUMN. 

name — but  I  must  plead  ignorance  if  you  wish  to  know 
why  it  gets  such  a  fine  name. 

The  vertebras  of  the  os  sacrum  are  quite  distinct  for  a 
long  time  :  they  only  unite  after  a  certain  period,  and  in 
fact  this  os  sacrum,  with  its  magnificent  name,  is  simply 
a  smuggled  bone,  the  result  of  a  coalition.  It  is  but 
justice  to  give  to  the  spinal  column  the  five  vertebrae  of 
which  it  has  been  slyly  deprived.  We  may  say  the  same 
of  the  four  very  small  vertebras  which  follow  the  sacrum  ; 
in  the  first  instance  separate  and  distinct,  they  by  and  by 
unite  and  form  a  single  bone,  which  itself  often  becomes 
one  with  the  sacrum  ;  but,  however  imperceptible  these 
bones  may  be,  their  title  to  the  rank  of  vertebrae 
cannot  be  denied.  They  are,  in  fact,  the  tail  of  the 
column. 

The  vertebral  column,  as  we  have  now  passed  it  in 
review,  with  its  thirty-three  vertebrae  and  their  rows  of 
apophyses,  has  also  certain  curves  which  cause  it  to  re- 
semble, when  seen  sidewise, — can  you  guess  what  ? — a 
caterpillar,  with  its  head  half  raised  as  it  crawls  along. 


In  order  not  to  disgust  you,  my  young  friend,  I  have 
made  it  a  rule  to  dispense  with  those  ugly  anatomical 
pictures,  which  would  have  been  most  useful  in  my  explana- 
tions. For  once,  however,  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  of 
showing  you  one  taken  from  Mr.  Milne-Edwards'  zoolog- 
ical illustrations,  where,  if  you  wish,  you  can  see  many 
others.  This  very  faithfully  represents  the  appearance 
of  the  vertebral  column.  Is  it  not  very  like  a  caterpillar 
climbing  up  a  cabbage  ?  What  makes  you  laugh  ?  The 
tinv  tail  ?  Nevertheless  the  vertebral  column  terminates 


THE   VERTEBRAL   COLUMN.  69 

exactly  in  this  manner.  Those  are  the  poor  little  ver- 
tobraa  at  the  end,  and  there  are  some  very  much  like  them 
to  be  found  in  your  cat's  tail. 

Now  you  will  say,  "  What  is  become  of  the  other 
vertebras,  since  you  tell  me  there  are  more  than  thirty- 
three?" 

Where  ?  Why,  at  the  other  end  of  the  column,  so  let 
us  pass  at  once  from  the  tail  to  the  head. 


CHAPTER   YIIL 

THE     HEAD     AND     CHEST. 

GOETHE — one  of  the  greatest  names  in  literature,  a  poet 
alike  in  prose  or  verse,  a  man  of  science  even  in  his 
leisure  moments,  and  one  who  has  done  more  for  science 
than  many  who  make  it  a  profession — Goethe  tells  us  in 
his  memoirs  that,  as  he  was  one  day  walking  on  the 
Lido  sands,  close  to  Yenice,  he  noticed  a  sheep's  head 
on  the  ground,  which  was  split  in  the  most  perfect  man- 
ner, and  on  examining  it  he  felt  himself  confirmed  in  an 
idea  he  had  previously  formed- — viz,  that  the  skull  bones 
were  only  vertebrae  in  another  shape.  None  but  a  poet 
would  have  had  such  a  happy  idea,  and  it  is  a  pity,  both 
for  science  and  for  themselves,  that  literary  men  are  not 
more  frequently  inspired  to  study  the  laws  of  nature. 
Genius  may  find  subjects  for  investigation  everywhere. 
Assuredly  but  few  of  the  scientific  labors  conducted  in 
the  laboratory  or  the  study  have  been  more  fruitful  than 
this  stroll  of  the  poet  lounging  on  the  banks  of  the  Lido, 
if  it  be  true,  as  Goethe  asserts  it  is,  that  this  sheep's 
skull  first  revealed  to  him  this  primary  law,  of  which  I 
have  already  often  told  you,  and  which  he  first  intro- 
duced into  the  scientific  world ;  a  law  in  accordance 
with  which  all  organic  structures  have  been  made, 
and  which  is  always  modifying  and  perfecting  itself.* 

*  This  is  the  quotation  from  Goethe's  memoirs,  which  you  can 
read  to  your  papa  if  he  has  any  curiosity  to  see  it : — 

"  During  one  of  my  frequent  rambles  over  the  downs  of  the  Lido, 

(70) 


THE   HE  AD.  AND    CHEST.  71 

It  seems  very  strange  to  you,  does  it  not,  that  after 
all  we  have  said  of  the  vertebras,  ^ve  have  to  search  for 
some  of  them  in  these  thin,  smooth,  rounded  plates 
which  form  the  arch  of  the  skull  ?  As  for  myself,  let 
me  tell  you  in  confidence,  the  first  time  I  heard  it  I 
thought  it  was  only  a  jest,  but  reflection  has  induced  me 
to  change  my  opinion. 

When  we  come  to  study  the  nervous  system,  and, 
above  all,  when  we  follow  out  its  transformations  in 
animals,  it  will  be  easy  to  convince  you  that  the  brain 
is  nothing  more  than  a  prolongation  of  the  spinal  mar- 
row, enlarged  and  perfected,  as  one  might  say.  This 
acknowledged,  it  is  but  a  step  further  to  admit  that 
the  skull,  this  bony  covering  of  the  brain,  is  only  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  bony  canal  in  which  the  spinal  marrow 
is  enclosed.  Thus  we  have  a  perfect  right  to  con- 
sider the  different  pieces  which  compose  the  skull  as 
so  many  vertebras,  and  to  add  them  to  the  thirty-three 
we  already  have. 

The  difficulty  is,  to  tell  you  how  many  we  here  find 
of  these  vertebras.  Gloethe  counted  six ;  Geoffry  St. 

winch  separate  the  Adriatic  from  the  Lagunes  of  Venice,  I  found  a 
sheep's  head  split  open  in  the  neatest  manner,  which  not  only  con- 
firmed the  great  truth  I  had  already  discovered — viz.,  that  all  the 
cranial  bones  were  transformed  vertebrae,  but  also  made  me  under- 
stand the  process  of  gradual  improvement  and  development  by 
which  shapeless  organic  matter  attains  a  higher  organisation ;  and 
then  my  old  belief  revived,  strengthened  by  experience,  that  Na- 
ture has  no  secret  she  is  unwilling  to  reveal  somewhere  to  the  atten- 
tive observer. 

"  I  was  fully  convinced  that  a  universal  type  existed  among  all 
organised  beings,  rising  in  perfection  by  means  of  gradual  metamor- 
phoses, and  that  this  type  might,  with  certain  restrictions,  be  easily 
recognised  in  all  parts  of  their  organisation,  and  that  it  could  be 
equally  discovered  where  it  is  most  deeply  concealed — namely,  in 
man,  the  highest  type  of  organised  being." 


72  THE   HEAD   AND    CHEST. 

Hilaire,  seven ;  others  again  find  only  three,  whilst 
many  hold  that  there,  are  four,  and  this  would  be  my 
own  opinion,  if  I  dared  to  express  one  on  a  question 
about  which  scientific  men  are  not  agreed.  To  feel 
myself  at  ease  regarding  them,  I  shall  shut  up  all  their 
books,  and  retain  only  one  open  upon  my  table.  It  is 
true  all  the  others  have  been  made  from  this  one,  for  it 
is  a  skull. 

You  can  follow  me  quietly  with  the  point  of  your 
finger  on  your  own  skull,  it  will  not  alarm  you,  I  imag- 
ine, so  well  covered  as  it  is  ;  and  do  not  be  frightened 
beforehand  at  the  names  you  may  hear.  When  they  are 
too  ugly  I  will  spare  your  feelings  by  passing  them  over. 

First,  touch  the  back  of  your  head,  at  the  spot  where 
it  joins  the  neck.  What  you  feel  there  is  the  occipital 
bone,  and  if  you  want  to  know  from  whence  it  derives 
its  name,  look  out  the  word  occiput  in  a  dictionary.  You 
will  find  that  it  signifies  the  back  of  the  head  ;  it  is  the 
opposite  of  the  sinciput,  which  means  the  top  or  summit 
of  the  head. 

The  occipital  bone  rests  exactly  on  that  atlas  of  which 
we  have  spoken  so  much,  and  it  is  pierced  below  with  a 
large  round  hole,  through  which  the  spinal  marrow 
enters  the  skull,  where  it  spreads  itself  out  in  a  wonder- 
ful manner,  as  we  shall  presently  discover. 

You  see  at  a  glance  that  this  is  a  vertebral  bone  ;  it 
bears  the  mark  of  its  origin,  and  presents  at  the  entrance 
of  the  canal  its  two  articular  apophyses  distinctly  char- 
acterised. 

Under  each  ear  you  have  a  little  hard  lump,  very  easy 
to  find.  It  is  the  mastoid  apophysis,  a  formidable  name 
which  you  will  easily  remember  on  that  account.  I  may 
as  well  tell  you  in  passing,  that  to  these  points  are  at- 
tached the  muscles  which  draw  the  head  to  the  right  or 


THE    HEAD   AND    CHEST.  73 

to  the  left,  causing  it  to  pivot  on  the  vertebral  column. 
Carfy  your  finger  from  one  to  the  other,  making  it  de- 
scribe a  kind  of  semicircle,  the  convexity  being  upwards. 
You  will  very  nearly  follow  the  upper  border  of  the 
occipital  bone,  irregular  in  its  form,  and  somewhat  resem- 
bling the  teeth  of  a  saw,  by  means  of  which  it  is  firmly 
dovetailed  into  similar  indentations  of  the  bone  above  it. 

This  latter  bone  forms  the  arch  of  the  skull,  and  its 
name,  moreover,  suggests  the  idea  of  a  piece  of  masonry. 
It  is  called  the  parietal  bone,  from  the  Latin  word,  paries, 
a  wall.  It  is  the  largest  bone  in  the  head,  only  the 
welding  which  unites  the  two  parts  of  the  contiguous 
bones  in  the  centre,  both  front  and  back,  is  not  found 
here.  This  weld  is  replaced  by  a  zig-zag  suture,  resem- 
bling that  which  borders  it  on  all  sides,  and  unites  it  to 
the  surrounding  bones,  so  that  to  any  person  looking  at 
a  skull,  these  two  parts  appear  to  be  two  separate  bones. 
For  this  reason  anatomists  in  their  books  mention  two 
parietals,  but  that  does  not  prevent  us  reducing  this 
contraband  pair  to  unity.  So  we  will  look  upon  it  as 
the  second  vertebra  of  the  skull,  of  which  it  forms  the 
principal  piece. 

Now  put  your  finger  half  way  between  the  tip  of  your 
ear  and  your  eye,  on  the  spot  called  the  temple,  and 
draw  a  line  toward  the  other  temple,  in  the  same  way  I 
made  you  do  over  the  occipital  bone,  but  making  the 
bend  incline  a  little  further  back,  and  you  will  follow  the 
suture  by  which  the  parietal  vertebra  is  connected  with 
the  third  bone,  the  name  of  which  requires  no  explana- 
tion, it  is  the  frontal  bone,  or  bone  of  the  forehead. 

There  is  this  satisfaction  with  these  bones,  especially 
with  the  frontal,  that  their  form  does  not  require  to  be  de- 
scribed. You  can  ascertain  their  shapes  yourself  either 
in  the  mirror  or  with  your  hand,  better  than  in  any  book, 
4 


74  THE   HEAD   AND   CHEST. 

for  the  all-sufficient  reason  that  they  vary  in  ea*eh  in- 
dividual. High,  low,  round,  flat,  spacious^  narrow*  the 
forehead  differs  in  every  human  being  ;  and  without  at- 
taching any  real  value  to  this  difference,  I  shall  show  you 
by  and  by,  that  generally  these  distinctions  represent 
some  decided  difference  of  character  ;  but  if  the  frontal 
dimensions  are  variable,  its  boundaries  are  everywhere 
the  same. 

Separate  the  forefinger  and  thumb,  and  place  the 
curve  of  your  hand  over  the  brow,  where  the  nose  com- 
mences ;  on  pressing  on  the  orbit  of  each  eye  with  the 
fingers,  exactly  at  the  little  prominence  which  you  feel 
at  each  side,  you  will  thus  touch  the  three  anterior  points 
where  the  frontal  bone  terminates.  It  extends  backward 
to  the  extremity  of  the  little  cavern  within  which  the 
eye  dwells  with  all  the  guarantees  of  security  suited  to 
so  important  an  organ,  and  then  joins  itself  below  with 
an  irregular  mass  of  protuberances,  points,  and  bony  em- 
inences, which  extend  into  the  interior  of  the  head  as  far 
as  the  occipital  orifice. 

Within  this  orifice  are  to  be  found  parts  known  by  all 
kinds  of  strange  names,  quite  useless  to  you,  and  so  I 
shall  decline  giving  you  any  explanation  about  this  re- 
gion, which  completes  the  fastenings  of  the  cranium  below, 
and  which  in  living  persons  is  perfectly  inaccessible  to 
observers,  hidden  as  it  is  in  its  depths. 

The  longer  I  contemplate  the  skull  I  hold  in  my  hands, 
the  more  natural  it  appears  to  find  in  it  a  body  of  ver- 
tebrae. If  you  recollect  what  I  recently  told  you,  it  is 
the  body  of  the  great  cranial  vertebra  of  the  parietal, 
which  is  attached  to  it  on  either  side  by  two  prolonged 
processes,  of  which  the  principal,  called  the  temporal, 
supports  the  ear,  and  terminates  above  at  the  temple — 
hence  its  name. 


THE   HEAD   AND   CHEST.  75 

The  skull  will  thus  be  found  to  be  composed  of  three 
vertebrae,  one  in  front,  the  frontal ;  the  second  behind, 
the  occipital ;  and  the  vertebras  of  the  centre  which, 
under  the  various  names  of  parietal,  temporal,  etc.,  etc., 
make  up  the  whole.  All  this  is  clear,  and  easy  to  re- 
member ;  and  as  we  have  come  to  this  conclusion,  we 
will  not  ask  anatomists  for  their  opinions  on  the  subject. 

And  this  fourth  vertebra,  you  will  say,  what  are  you 
going  to  do  with  it,  seeing  the  entire  skull  has  been 
completed  ?  Do  you  remember  the  small  vertebras  at 
the  extremity  of  the  spinal  column,  which  seem  only  rudi- 
mentary, forming  in  reality  no  part  of  the  vertebral 
canal,  seeing  that  the  marrow  does  not  reach  them  ? 
They  have  a  counterpart  in  a  very  small  bone,  which 
forms  a  direct  continuation  of  the  frontal,  extended  on 
the  median  or  middle  line,  and  seems  to  be  the  last  effort 
of  nature  in  her  completion  of  the  vertebral  column. 
Whilst  we  have  been  speaking  of  this  column,  I  have 
more  than  once  pictured  it  to  myself  as  resembling  a  large 
walking-stick  terminating  in  a  point,  the  head  of  which 
would  be  the  cranium.  The  bone  we  are  talking  about, 
the  fourth  vertebra,  without  office,  would  thus  be  a  kind 
of  ornament  added  to  the  head.  And,  indeed,  it  might 
truly  pass  for  an  ornamental  bone,  as  it  contributes 
greatly  to  the  beauty  of  the  face,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the 
bone  of  the  nose. 

I  can  fancy  you  putting  your  hand  to  your  nose,  and 
thinking  me  very  bold  to  compare  it  to  a  vertebra.  You 
allow  that  appearances  go  a  long  way  with  you.  The 
handsomest  nose  in  the  world — your  own,  if  you  like — 
has  only  an  ugly  rudimentary,  or  imperfectly  formed, 
bone  for  its  foundation,  which  stops  at  the  bridge,  as  it 
is  called.  The  remainder,  to  make  use  of  a  comparison 
that  I  sincerely  hope  will  soon  be  out  of  fashion,  the  re- 


76,  THE   HEAD   AND    CHEST. 

mainder  is  but  a  little  crinoline  gf  cartilage  which  has 
usurped  the  place  it  occupies.  It  is  principally  on  this 
account  that  the  face  of  a  dead  person  is  not  pleasant  to 
look  upon,  as  only  the  really  solid  portions  are  left,  and 
an  ugly  orifice  replaces  those  elegant  wings  or  nostrils, 
which  are  the  great  charni  of  a  beautiful  nose.  For  this 
reason  ancient  poets  called  death  the  flat-nosed  one,  as 
if  to  defy  it  at  a  distance.  All  noses  are  flat  when  they 
lose  their  little  cartilaginous  crinoline,  whether  aquiline 
or  snub,  it  matters  not. 

With  the  nasal  bone,  whether  considered  as  a  vertebra 
or  not, — between  ourselves,  it  is  of  no  importance — begins 
the  series  of  what  are  called  the  bones  of  the  face. 

Of  these  there  are  a  great  number,  fourteen  in  all,  if  I 
give  you  the  official  computation,  but  I  shall  abridge 
them  and  only  mention  the  three  principal  ones,  which 
properly  speaking  we  have  close  at  hand. 

The  first  of  these  is  the  cheek-bone,  of  which  there  are 
naturally  two,  as  each  cheek  requires  one  bone.  One 
part  rests  upon  a  long  projection  springing  from  the 
temporal  to -support  the  cheek  in  front  of  the  corner  of 
the  mouth  ;  the  other  upon  the  upper  jaw  just  above  the 
molars,  and  goes  upward  to  rejoin  the  frontal  at  the  spot 
where  you  just  now  placed  your  finger.  This  is  quite  a 
geographical  study,  you  see.  But  I  think  it  would  have 
been  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  have  been  able  to  pass 
my  finger  over  my  cheek  when  I  was  a  little  boy,  and  tell 
the  name  of  everything  it  met  with  there.  Unhappily,  at 
your  age  I  knew  far  less  than  you  do,  and  so  it  is,  the 
world  progresses  generation  after  generation,  each  one 
making  an  advance  in  knowledge. 

The  second  bone  you  have  to  examine  is  the  upper 
jaw.  Like  the  parietal  bone  its  two  halves  only  meet 
in  the  middle  line,  and  are  separated  by  a  very  percept- 


THE   HEAD   AND    CHEST.  77 

ible  wall.  But  there  also  tlie  weld  seems  only  to  have 
been  forgotten,  so  I  shall  not  adopt  the  custom  of  con- 
sidering it  as  two  bones — it  is  only  one  with  a  cleft  in 
the  middle. 

The  upper  jaw  is  the  important  part  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  facial  bones.  It  extends  alongside  the  nose 
up  to  the  frontal,  with  which  it  articulates  almost  upon 
the  same  line  as  the  bone  of  the  nose,  which  it  encloses 
between  its  two  nasal  processes,  so  to  speak,  as  in  a 
frame.  We  have  seen  that  it  extends  from  the  side 
under  the  cheek  until  it  meets  the  cheek-bone.  There 
the  inferior  surface  remains  which  forms  the  whole  roof 
of  the  palate  within  the  mouth,  excepting  a  small  band 
at  the  bottom  which  is  separated  by  a  wavy  line  which 
has  been  classed  as  a  distinct  bone  under  the  name  of 
palate-bone.  I  should  be  sorry  to  cavil  about  this  bone, 
but  could  we  together  examine  it  uncovered,  I  am  sure 
you  would  agree  with  me,  that  it  is  simply  a  piece  of  the 
upper  jaw  in  which  the  weld  has  been 'forgotten. 

If  we  had  not  already  studied  the  teeth  at  full 
length,  I  should  have  many  things  to  tell  you  about 
those  valuable  little  pearls  of  which  your  jaws  are  the 
jewel-cases  ;  as  the  ground  has  been  already  gone  over, 
it  wo*uld  be  useless  to  recommence  with  them. 

I  might  almost  make  the  same  remark  respecting  the 
lower  jaw,  the  third  bone  of  the  face,  which  I  wish  to 
talk  to  you  about.  When  treating  of  mastication  we 
discussed  this  bone,  and  later,  when  referring  to  the  lion, 
I  was  under  the  necessity  of  explaining  to  you  its  artic- 
ulation ;  its  most  curious  feature,  that  which  most  merits 
our  attention,  is,  that  it  is  the  only  movable  bone  to  be 
found  in  the  head.  But  we  have  enough  to  do  with 
what  you  are  still  ignorant  of,  ^without  going  back  to 
what  you  know  already. 


78  THE   HEAD   AND    CHEST. 

Anatomists  consider  the  lower  jaw  to  be  only  one 
bone,  because  its  two  parts  have  the  good,  nature  to 
unite  in  early  life  ;  if  you  wish  to  know  the  reason,  it 
is  easily  ascertained.  The  lower  jaw  works  hard,  and 
bestirs  itself,  whilst  the  other  lacks  energy  to  unify 
itself,  if  I  may  be  allowed  the  expression,  its  idle  halves 
lazily  waiting  the  shock  without  meeting  its  antagonist 
half-way,  while  the  lower  jaw  rapidly  unites  its  halves 
in  the  incessant  effort  of  a  common  action.  Nothing  so 
greatly  promotes  union  as  acting  in  concert,  and  what 
happens  in  the  jaws  occurs  also  in  society.  Take  a 
party  of  little  girls,  for  instance,  divisions  quickly  dis- 
appear when  they  all  agree  to  play  at  the  same  game. 
I  mention  this  as  an  example  you  are  probably  ac- 
quainted with,  though  no  doubt  others  might  be  cited 
with  advantage. 

To  return  to  the  bones  of  the  face  which  you  will 
lose  sight  of  if  we  chatter  so  much  over  our  philosophy, 
it  was  there  Goethe  found  three  out  of  the  six  vertebras 
that  he  saw  in  the  sheep's  head. 

"  There  are,"  says  he,  in  the  beautiful  language  of  an 
observing  artist,  which 'you  must  get  some  one  to  explain 
to  you,  "  There  are  three  vertebra  for  the  posterior  por- 
tion, enclosing,  as  we  may  say,  the  cerebral  treasure, 
and  the  terminations  of  life  delicately  ramifying  and 
spreading  out  like  branches  in  the  interior  ;  three  verte- 
bras from  the  anterior  portion  which  have  communica- 
tion with  the  external  world,  and  which  apprehend  and 
comprehend  it." 

The  idea  is  certainly  beautiful,  fitted  to  captivate  a 
poet,  and  in  spite  of  myself  makes  me  think  of  an  im- 
pious remark  made  by  a  compatriot  of  the  great  natu- 
ralist, "  Had  Goethe  bee^n  by  when  the  world  was  created, 
he  might  have  given  some  hints."  Unfortunately  the 


THE   HEAD   AND    CHEST.  79 

vertebrae  were  all  arranged  before  his  day,  and  although 
I  have  studied  and  restudied  my  anatomical  skull,  I  can- 
not bring  myself  to  agree  with  Goethe  as  to  the  authen- 
ticity of  his  three  bones.  We  scarcely  see  in  the  bones 
of  the  face  anything  beyond  appendages  to  the  great 
central  vertebra,  mere  accessories  to  the  vertebral 
system,  but  having  themselves  no  place  of  their  own 
in  it. 

This  character,  already  pretty  apparent  in  the  cheek- 
bone and  even  more  visible  in  the  lower  jaw,  becomes 
self-evident  in  another  series  of  bony  pieces,  which  seem 
to  be  a  repetition,  the  first  especially,  of  the  lower  jaw, 
and  no  one  has  ever  felt  inclined  to  consider  them  as 
vertebras.  I  speak  of  the  bones  in  the  chest. 

You  may  read  over  again  the  description  of  the  chest 
that  I  formerly  gave  you.  It  will  interest  you  more 
now  that  you  know  a  little  about  the  construction  of  the 
bones,  and  that  you  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
vertebral  column  which  acts  as  a  basis  to  the  chest  bones. 
You  only  require  now  to  see  what  I  have  described  set 
in  motion. 

?have  related  the  movements  and  workings  of  the 
diaphragm  at  some  length ;  this  model  servant  of  the 
good  old  times,  who  does  duty  for  the  lungs  without  our 
troubling  ourselves  about  it.  Hitherto  I  have  spoken 
of  it  separately ;  but  it  has  assistants  in  those  twelve 
pairs  of  bars  which  diverge  right  and  left  from  the  dor- 
sal vertebrae  to  form  the  thoracic  cage.  I  must  tell  you 
in  passing,  that  this  term  is  taken  from  the  word  thorax, 
a  Greek  word  signifying  chest,  and  one  we  shall  pre- 
sently require  to  make  use  of. 

You  know  the  first  seven  pairs  of  ribs  are  supported 
on  a  bony  plate  called  the  sternum,  or  chest-bone,  which 
unites  them  all,  and  which  closes  the  cage  in  front  oppo- 


80  THE   HEAD   AND   CHEST. 

site  to  the  dorsal  vertebrae,  which  close  it  behind.  Here, 
then,  you  find  the  ribs  are  held  fast  at  both  ends,  and  at 
first  sight  you  will  be  unable  to  perceive  how  they  can 
possibly  assist  in  the  dilatations  and  contractions  of  the 
lungs  ;  but  nature  has  many  an  artifice. 

These  ribs  are  not  hard  throughout  their  entire 
length  ;  at  the  two  points  where  they  join  the  chest- 
bone  and  the  spinal  column,  they  terminate  in  cartilage?, 
which  possess  a  certain  degree  of  flexibility,  and  which 
never  completely  ossify  except  in  extreme  old  age. 
Moreover,  they  do  not  form  a  regular  curve.  Picture 
to  yourself  the  two  halves  of  a  hoop  slightly  twisted 
inwardly  and  obliquely  one  over  the  other,  and  you  will 
understand  what  I  mean. 

"What  takes  place  when  you  pull  the  cord  of  a  Vene- 
tian blind,  of  which  tlxe  bars  are  inclined  downwards  1 
They  all  rise,  turn  their  lower  edge  outward,  and  with- 
out the  frame  moving,  a  space  is  immediately  made 
through  which  air  and  light  enter  the  apartment. 

It  is  just  the  same  with  our  ribs,  small  cords  run  be- 
tween them  from  one  to  the  other,  the  names  of  which 
are  not  very  alarming.  They  are  called  intere<^tal 
muscles.  When  the  moment  comes  for  dilating  the 
lungs,  all  the  small  cords  become  stiff.  The  ribs  raise 
themselves  by  slightly  twisting  the  cartilages,  which 
easily  yield.  The  inward  curve  becomes  an  outward 
one,  and  the  cage  is  immediately  enlarged  at  the  sides, 
whilst  the  diaphragm  elongates  it  by  descending  to- 
wards the  abdomen.  Do  not  forget  that  the  sternum  is 
itself  elastic,  seeing  it  is  intersected  by  cartilaginous 
bands,  and  that  the  heaving  of  its  sides  pushes  its  lower 
point  outward,  which  so  far  increases  the  space  in  the 
chest.  All  return  to  their  place  the  moment  the  dia- 
phragm ascends  ;  and  the  lungs,  compressed  into  a  space 


THE   HEAD   AND    CHEST.  81 

which  confines  them  at  once  on  every  side,  are  soon 
obliged  to  expel  the  superfluous  air. 

I  hope,  dear  child,  this  will  help  you  to  understand 
why  your  mother  thinks  it  so  necessary  you  should 
stand  and  sit  erect.  When  the  body  is  left  to  itself, 
and  the  shoulders  weigh  on  the  chest  by  bearing  on  it, 
all  this  rise  and  fall  of  the  ribs  is  only  partially  carried 
on,  because  the  slender  cords  as  they  stretch  themselves 
are  unequal  to  the  task  of  raising  up  the  shoulders,  an 
enormous  weight  for  them,  respiration  is  but  imperfectly 
carried  on,  and  the  entire  economy  suffers,  for  we  have 
already  proved  that  to  live  and  breathe  are  synonymous. 
But  there  is  something  still  more  serious  in  this  than 
momentary  inconvenience.  All  these  cartilages,  so 
pliable  at  your  age,  take  a  false  bend-  for  want  of  the 
proper  movements  assigned  to  them.  The  chest  is 
arrested  in  its  development,  and  the  least  evil  resulting 
from  it  is  to  find  oneVself  when  grown  up,  I  will  not 
say  humpbacked,  for  that  is  not  always  the  case,  but 
bent  double  like  an  old  person  before  our  time.  This 
will  come  soon  enough,  believe  me,  without  seeking  it. 

I  have  still  some  advice  to  give  you  about  these  deli- 
cate and  precious  little  ribs,'  the  movements  of  which 
are  of  great  importance  to  you.  It  can  scarcely  be 
useful  to  you  until  you  are  a  little  older ;  but  never 
mind,  take  it  whilst  we  are  on  this  subject,  you  can 
keep  it  for  by  and  by.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  tell  you 
that  a  certain  article  of  a  young  lady's  dress  is  tightened 
by  lacing  to  give  her  a  fine  shape ;  the  mischief  is  not 
very  great  when  the  lacing  is  drawn  in  moderation,  but 
from  what  I  have  just  told  you,  you  will  easily  see  what 
inevitably  happens  to  all  foolish  girls  who  aim  too  ener- 
getically at  possessing  a  figure  like  that  of  the  wasp. 
If  the  bars  of  the  Venetian  blinds  were  very  firmly 
4* 


82  THE   HEAD   AND    CHEST. 

* 

wrapped  up  and  then  bound  round  with  string,  you 
might  pull  away  at  the  inner  cord  but  nothing  would 
move.  This,  is  precisely  the  trick  this  murderous  lacing 
plays  on  those  who  pull  it  with  all  their  force. 

Why  thus  heedlessly  set  at  naught  the  wise  arrange- 
ments of  Nature,  who  has  planned  everything  so  as  to 
leave  freedom  to  the  movements  of  the  chest?  The 
best  gift  she  can  bestow  upon  us  here  is  a  capacious 
chest,  in  which  the  great  organs  of  life  have  space 
enough  to  work  at  their  ease.  It  is  a  great  misfortuue 
when  the  chest  lacks  capacity,  and  the  lungs  consequently 
are  confined  within  too  narrow  an  abode.  A  defect  of 
this  kind  often  induces  feeble  and  delicate  health,  too 
often  ending  in  premature  death.  To  reduce  of  our 
own  free  will  a  naturally  well-formed  and  capacious 
cavity,  is  worse  than  folly,  it  is  almost  a  crime,  seeing 
that  it  is  the  first  step  towards  suicide.  When  you  shall 
have  grown  up  to  be  a  big  girl,  never  lace  your  corsets 
too  tightly.  Begin  at  once  to  hold  your  body  erect. 
Throw  your  shoulders  back  so  as  to  spare  the  cords 
of  your  little  ribs,  and  thus  you  will  find  out  how  use- 
ful is  the  history  of  the  twelve  pairs  of  ribs  and  the 
sternum. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    ARMS    AND    LEGS. 

WE  now  enter  upon  the  real  territory  of  the  bones. 

Up  to  the  present  time  we  have  only  met  with  bones 
occupying,  if  I  may  so  speak,  a  secondary  position.  The 
vertebrae  and  the  ribs .  are,  properly  speaking,  only  the 
casings  ;  the  bones  of  the  face  are  but  accessory  pieces 
without  movement,  and,  so  to  say,  without  function. 
The  lower  jaw  is  the  only  bone  we  have  seen  really 
playing  an  active  part,  and  it  is  but  partially  free,  held 
in  check  as  it  is  on  all  sides  by  bands  and  ligaments. 
In  the  arms  and  legs  the  bones  are  lords  and  masters  ; 
they  occupy  the  heart  of  the  place,  and  the  others  group 
themselves  around  them  to  serve  them  in  their  function, 
which  is  to  transport  the  body  and  to  seize  upon  the 
objects  around  it. 

Travellers  tell  us  that  African  negroes  can  steal  with 
perfect  ease  by  means  of  their  feet,  and  in  public  shows 
you  may  sometimes  see  mountebanks  walk  upon  their 
hands"  with  their  head  downward.  Little  boys  some- 
times think  this  very  delightful,  and  torture  their  wrists 
in  imitating  them.  The  arms  and  legs  can,  then,  ex- 
change functions  when  required.  This  is  because  our 
four  limbs  are  all  made  after  the  same  model,  with  slight 
differences,  determined  by  the  difference  of  their  func- 
tions, and  this  again  is  an  example  of  the  way  in  which 
Nature  varies  her  productions,  still  preserving  the  model 
in  which  they  are  formed. 

(83) 


84  .  .  THE   ARMS  AND   LEGS. 

We  have  two  animals  in  our  Zoological  Gardens 
which  teach  us  with  what  ease  nature  converts  our  arms 
into  legs,  and  vice  versa.  The  bear  frequently  deprives 
sportsmen  of  their  lives  by  hugging  them  against  its 
chest  with  its  fore-paws,  using  them  as  arms  ;  and  the 
monkey  exhibits  a  species  of  hand  at  the  extremities  of 
its  legs. 

Look  well  at  this  little  woodcut. 


It  represents  a  bear's  paw.  Could  you  not  almost 
believe  it  to  be  the  sole  of  a  human  foot  ?  It  would 
seem  as  if  Nature  had  intended  to  put  feet  on  the  arms 
of  the  bear  and  hands  on  the  monkey's  legs,  modifying, 
consequently,  the  two  pairs  of  members  thus  perfected. 

If  this  be  true,  you  may  expect  to  find  a  great  simi- 
larity between  the  arm  and  the  leg,  and  such  will  prove 
to  be  the  case  ;  but  you  must  not  complain,  for  it 
will  render  our  study  of  these  limbs  easier  and  more 
interesting. 

First  we  will  notice  the  arm;  it  is  right  to  begin 
with  it,  for  in  this  manner  you  carry  out  Nature's 
laws. 

Have  you  ever  remarked  in  infants,  whose  legs  are 
utterly  incapable  of  supporting  the  weight  of  the  body, 
how  strong  by  comparison  their  arms  are?  and  how 
dangerous  their  little  hands,  so  delicate  in  appearance, 
are  even  to  a  man  when  by  chance  they  grasp  his  bea^  ? 
This  has  happened  to  me  more  than  once.  There  is  a 


THE   .ARMS  AND   LEGS.  85 

reason  for  everything,  and  the  reason  for  this  difference 
between  the  strength  of  the  arms  and  that  of  the  legs 
is  because  the  bones  of  the  arms  are  ready  for  work 
long  before  those  of  the  legs.  The  foot  is  still  in  a  half 
cartilaginous  state,  while  the  bones  in  the  hand  are 
almost  completely  formed  ;  and  from  the  fingers  to  the 
shoulder,  all  the  bony  part  of  the  upper  limb  is  equally 
in  advance  of  the .  corresponding  part  of  the  lower 
one. 

This  is  a  lesson  Nature  teaches  all  of  us,  my  dear 
child.  Before  we  can  act,  knowledge  is  necessary  • 
therefore,  the  hand,  which  serves  to  educate  the  infant ; 
the  hand,  with  which  it  touches  all  it  sees  to  confirm 
the  still  uncertain  indications  of  an  inexperienced  eye  ; 
the  hand,  so  excellent  a  preceptor,  is  perfected  before 
the  foot.  The  latter  is  a  passive  attendant  destined 
to  come  into  use  afterward — to  bring  him  face  to  face 
with  difficulties  and  dangers,  when  he  shall  have  learned 
to  understand  or  appreciate  them.  If,  then,  you  should 
happen  to  be  left  at  school  after  your  elder  sisters  have 
been  introduced  into  society,  do  not  consider  yourself 
ill-used.  When  the  hand  has  accomplished  its  prepar- 
atory duty,  the  foot  will  take  its  turn. 

The  arm  is  supported  in  its  movements  on  a  large  base 
fixed  to  the  trunk,  called  the  shoulder ;  it  is  composed 
of  two  bones,  the  scapula  and  the  clavicle. 

The  scapula  is  easily  found.  Put  your  hand  to  your 
shoulder-joint,  at  the  place  where  soldiers  wear  their 
epaulets,  and  move  your  arm  up  and  down.  You  will 
feel  a  bone,  which  appears  to  dance  with  every  move- 
ment of  the  arm  :  that  is  the  scapula.  Mind  you  do  not 
put  your  hand  too  near  your  chest,  or  you  will  feel  the 
clavicle  instead  of  the  scapula.  You  can  easily  find  out 
if  you  have  made  tbis  mistake  by  passing  your  finger  so 


86  THE   ARMS  AND   LEGS. 

far  as  the  sternum,  on  the  top  of  which  the  clavicle 
rests. 

Underneath  the  point  just  indicated,  a  round  hole 
exists  in  the  scapula,  into  which  the  bone  of  the  arm 
enters,  whence  it,  the  scapula,  descends  in  a  triangular 
form,  the  extremity  of  which  you  can  touch  by  passing 
one  hand  under  the  arm-pit.  This  part  of  the  scapula 
extends  almost  as  far  behind  as  the  vertebras,  but  it 
takes  care  not  to  approach  near  enough  to  articulate 
with  it.  It  would  no  longer  possess  sufficient  liberty  to 
accompany  all  the  movements  of  the  arm  as  it  now  does  ; 
and  so  essential  to  its  action  is  freedom,  that  it  has  not 
even  a  fibrous  capsule  binding  it  to  the  vertebral  column. 
It  is  simply  fastened  to  it  by  muscles,  and  this  is  the  only 
example  I  can  give  you  in  the  human  body  of  a  bone 
playing  freely  without  being  tied  to  its  neighbors  by 
this  tough  covering,  of  which  the  fibrous  capsules  are 
composed. 

A  certain  solidity  is,  nevertheless,  necessary  to  this 
movable  foundation  ;  it  must  be  placed  upon  something 
firmer  than  muscles.  Such  is  the  service  rendered  by 
the  clavicle.  The  clavicle  articulates  with  the  sternum 
on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  with  a  large  apophysis  of 
the  scapula,  which  exactly  forms  the  point  where  the 
epaulet  is  placed.  The  clavicle  is  a  kind  of  cross-beam, 
placed  like  a  buttress,  which  retains  the  scapula  in  its 
right  place,  preventing  its  being  driven  against  the 
chest  by  any  sudden  shock.  The  articulation  is,  other- 
wise, one  of  the  most  simple.  Suppose  a  wand  fixed  at 
its  two  ends,  and  see-sawing  upon  the  sternum  as  the 
scapula  rises  and  falls — here,  indeed,  a  powerful  fibrous 
band  is  necessary,  and  the  capsule,  fastening  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  clavicle  to  the  sterum,  presses  so  closely 
upon  it,  that  the  clavicle  cannot  be  dislocated  without 
breaking  the  capsule. 


THE   ARMS  AND  LEGS.  87 

Between  the  scapula  and  the  clavicle  which  supports 
it,  there  is  a  space  filled  exclusively  with  muscles.  This 
space  forms  a  hollow  in  thin  children,  which  you  have 
probably  more  than  once  observed. 

The  chief  office  of  the  clavicle  is  to  permit  of  the  arm 
being  extended  from  the  trunk,  and  to  act  as  a  support 
when  the  arm  is  crossed  over  the  chest.  Thus  the  clavi- 
cle is  only  to  be  found  in  animals  to  which  this  move- 
ment is  familar,  as,  for  instance,  the  ape  and  the  bear, 
the  two  neighbors  we  recently  alluded  to.  Watch  a 
squirrel  as  he  nibbles  at  a  nut ;  by  the  way  in  which  he 
turns  and  twists  it-  between  his  two  fore  paws,  which 
meet  just  at  his  little  nose,  you  can  assure  yourself  that 
his  clavicle  is  in  geod  order.  The  cat,  and  especially 
the  dog,  which  use  their  fore  paws  to  less  advantage, 
have,  instead  of  a  clavicle,  only  a  small  bone  suspended 
in  the  muscles,  retained  by  ligaments  to  the  scapula  and 
sternum,  which  it  does  not  touch.  The  horse,  which 
uniformly  moves  its  four  legs  in  a  straight  line,  has  no 
clavicle  at  all ;  and  the  ass  of  La  Fontaine,  who  wished 
to  caress  his  master,  in  order  to  have  done  so  elegantly, 
would  have  had  need  of  a  clavicle  which  he  had  not.  On 
the  other  hand,  in  birds,  where  much  strength  of  wing  is 
required  to  support  them  in  their  flight,  the  clavicles 
have  so  important  a  part  to  perform,  that,  to  increase 
their  solidity,  they  are  firmly  knit  together,  and  form  but 
one  bone,  which  is  shaped  like  the  letter  Y,  the  two 
branches  forming  to  the  scapula  a  point  of  support,  at 
once  solid  and  resisting.  Ask  to  look  at  this  bone  the 
next  time  you  see  any  one  carve  a  partridge ;  it  looks 
like  a  small  fork  leaning  against  the  sternum  ;  hence  its 
name,  furca,  the  Latin  for  fork. 

Perhaps  I  ought  to  "have  reserved  this  for  a  later  les- 
son, but  I  could  not  allow  so  excellent  an  opportunity  to 


88  THE   ARMS.  AND   LEGS.  ' 

escape  me,  of  giving  you  an  idea  of  the  way  in  which 
the  organs  of  relation  are  modified  in  proportion  to  the 
importance  of  their  functions  in  the  different  animals, 
and -how  they  disappear  one  by  one,  leaving  intact  the 
leading  features  of  the  plan  on  which  they  are  grouped 
or  classified.  The  clavicle  is  the  first  among  the  impor- 
tant bones  in  the  human  body  that  does  not  respond  to 
our  call,  as  we  review  the  bones  of  those  animals  next 
below  man :  the  movement  over  which  it  presides  is  to 
some  extent  an  entirely  human  one,  as  you  can  under- 
stand if  you  watch  a  dancing  bear  or  a  tumbling  monkey 
at  its  games. 

Moreover,  we  need  not  turn  to  animals  in  order  to 
observe  the  modifications  of  the  clavicle,  modified  by  the 
difference  of  the  functions  they  have  to  perform.  I  can 
give  you  a  curious  example  of  this  without  going  farther 
than  the  human  species.  Can  you  believe  me  when  I 
tell  you  that,  making  due  allowance  for  the  difference 
of  size,  your  mother  has  a  longer  clavicle  than  your 
father  ?  This  is,  nevertheless,  the  case,  and  in  little  girls 
too,  the  clavicle  keeps  the  scapula  at  a  more  respectable 
distance  from  the  sternum  than  in  boys,  because  it  is 
proportionately  longer  in  the  former.  Throwing  stones 
is  not  a  ladylike  occupation,  but  it  may  for  once  be  ex- 
cusable on  the  plea  of  scientific  interest.  Let  a  boy  and 
girl  each  throw  a  stone  at  the  same  moment ;  owing  to 
the  length  of  her  clavicle,  the  little  girl  cannot  throw 
her  arm  forward  with  the  same  ease  and  neatness  as  the 
boy.  Ladies  who  might  wish  to  amuse  themselves  by 
throwing  stones,  would  never  succeed  in  sending  them 
any  distance  for  this  same  reason  ;  nor  could  they  give 
a  good  blow  with  the  fist  even  had  they  strong  arms, 
which  are  sometimes  to  be  met  with  in  women.  It  is  a 
kind  of  inferiority  of  which  they  need  not  complain,  for 


THE   AEMS  AND   LEGS.  89 

the  result  is  more  precious  to  them  than  the  power  of 
boxing.  Give  to  the  strongest  man  a  child  to  carry  in 
his  arms,  and  he  will  soon  be  tired  of  the  weight ;  whilst 
a  small,  slight  woman  will  carry  it  for  hours  together, 
and  never  complain  •  thanks  to  the  extra  length  of  her 
clavicle,  which  allows  her  arm  a  more  convenient  point 
of  support  as  it  crosses  over  her  chest.  Now,  observe 
how  an  inch  more  or  less  in  a  bone  only  the  thickness 
of  your  finger  assigns  the  part  each  should  play  ;  to  the 
woman,  that  of  carrying  the  child  ;  to  the  man,  that  of 
defending  both. 

Let*us  now  proceed  to  the  history  of  the  arm. 

Without  much  study  you  can  see  that  the  arm  is  di- 
vided into  three  portions,  which  may  be  easily  recog- 
nised. One  extends  from  the  shoulder  to  the  elbow,  the 
second  from  the  elbow  to  the  wrist,  and  the  third  from 
the  wrist  to  the  end  of  the  fingers.  These  are,  properly 
speaking,  the  arm,  the  forearm,  and  the  hand. 

There  is  only  one  bone  in  the  arm,  the  humerus,  the 
form  of  which  you  will  find  it  difficult  to  ascertain, 
owing  to  the  thick  layers  of  muscles  with  which  it  is 
covered.  Examined  in  a  skeleton,  it  presents  three  lon- 
gitudinal ridges,  especially  in  the  centre,  for  it  is  rounded 
toward  the  shoulder,  and  flattened  toward  the  elbow, 
forming  so  convenient  a  leaning  surface  when  you  fall 
asleep  with  your  head  resting  upon  your  hand 

Only  the  two  extremities  of  the  humerus  deserve  our 
attention. 

The  upper  extremity  at  the  inner  side  forms  a  sort  of 
half  ball,  and  is  called  the  head  of  the  humerus  ;  it  fits 
into  the  round  hole  in  the  scapula,  of  which  I  spoke  to 
you  very  recently.  If  you  have  ever  remarked  an  em- 
broidery frame,  you  can  form  a  tolerably  correct  idea  of 
the  articulation  of  the  arm  and  shoulder.  It  is  by  means 


90  THE  ARMS*  AND  LEGS. 

of  a  similar  mechanism  that  the  circle  upon  which  the 
piece  to  be  worked  is  stretched,  the  tambour,  as  it 
is  called,  inclines  at  will  in  every  direction.  The  foot 
which  holds  it  is  screwed  on  to  a  ball,  which  can  turn  in 
any  required  way  in  a  hollow  half  sphere.  Only,  as  the 
arm  requires  to  be  always  ready  to  move,  the  screw  that 
presses  the  articulation  of  the  frame,  and  fixes  it  in  its 
place,  would  have  an  injurious  effect  here,  and  naturally 
we  have  nothing  of  the  sort.  More  than  that,  the  cavity, 
into  which  the  head  of  the  humerus  passes,  has  not  even 
depth  sufficient  to  receive  the  whole  of  it ;  thus  more 
liberty  is  given  to  the  joints,  at  the  expense,  it  is  frue,  of 
its  solidity  ;  but  this  is  a  law  we  know  already. 

To  add  to  this  precious  liberty  which  so  facilitates 
the  movements  of  the  arm,  the  fibrous  capsule  of  the  joint 
is  only  incased  in  a  loose  bag,  in  which  the  head  of  the 
humerus  moves  with  ease  in  its  cavity.  This  capsule 
is  so  long  that,  in  .cases  where  the  arm  and  shoulder  are 
pulled  in  contrary  directions,  it  allows  the  surfaces  of 
the  two  bones  in  contact  to  separate  almost  an.  inch, 
which  could  not  occur  in  any  other  joint  without  break- 
ing it.  In  these  cases,  the  head  of  the  humerus  leaves 
its  cavity,  and,  if  the  neighboring  muscles  did  not  re- 
tain it  in  the  right  direction,  as  they  stiffen  themselves 
around  it,  the  slightest  shock  would  suffice  to  throw  it 
to  one  side.  This  is  what  happens  in  accidents  where 
the  weight  of  the  body  falls  on  the  arm  placed  in  a 
false  position  ;  the  shoulder  is  dislocated  ;  in  other  words, 
the  articulation  can  no  longer  act,  the  little  ball  is  driven 
out  of  its  round  hole,  within  which,  its  polished,  shiny 
surface  allowed  it  to  move  so  easily. 

No  matter  how  loose  the  bandage  of  the  capsule  may 
be,  you  can  readily  imagine  how  this  change  of  position 
must  stretch  it ;  so  the  only  thing  to  be  done  is  to  send 


THE   ARMS   AND   LEGS.  91 

off  quickly  for  a  surgeon  to  put  all  in  its.  place  again. 
Inflammation  soon  appears  in  the  tortured  ligaments, 
and  setting  a  limb  is  a  painful  operation,  from  which  I 
trust  you  may  be  preserved. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  AEMS  AND   LEGS — (Continued.) 

You  frequently  hear  of  a  dislocated  shoulder  ;  dis- 
located elbows  are  by.  no  means  so  common.  You  will 
understand  the  reason  of  this  when  you  come  to  examine 
closely  into  the  articulation  of  the  elbow.  The  humerus  at 
this  point  terminates  in  a  hinge  very  similar  to  the  pulley 
invented  by  man,  and  which  has  in  all  probability  been 
suggested  to  him  by  Nature's  own  model.  Take  hold  of 
your  wrist,  pressing  the  thumb  against  your  forefinger, 
and  pass  the  hand  around  the  wrist ;  it  is  exactly  in  this 
way  that  the  bone  of  which  you  feel  the  point  at  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  elbow,  and  which  is  called  the  cubitus, 
comes  and  gjpes  on  the  hinge  of  the  humerus,  which  it 
seems  to  grasp  with  a  kind  of  half-open  hand.  * 

You  can  imagine  this  being  much  more  solid  than  a 
ball  rolling  in  a  hole  or  socket,  especially  as  the  hinge 
thus  formed  can  only  move  in  one  direction,  and  so  al- 
lows the  arm  no  other  movement  than  in  a  straight  line, 
so  as  to  raise  the  hand  to  the  shoulder  or  to  lower  it. 
When  you  turn  your  elbow  inward  or  outward  it  is  not 
the  elbow  joint  which  contributes  to  these  movements  ; 
they  proceed  from  the  shoulder  ;  the  lower  bone  is  drawn 
along  by  the  humerus  in  its  evolutions  without  their 
respective  positions,  varying  a  hairsbreadth. 

The  mechanism  of  this  articulation  can  be  examined 
with  the  utmost  ease,  as  the  bones  at  this  point  are  sim- 
ply covered  with  skin,  and  you  can  feel  with  your  fingers 

(92) 


THE  ARMS  AND   LEGS.  93 

how  they  move  without  having  to  consult  an  ugly  skele- 
ton, as  I  constantly  do  that  I  may  make  no  mistake. 

First  raise  your  hand  to  your  shoulder,  bending  your 
elbow  as  much  as  possible.  The  hinge  of  the  humerus  is 
thus  exposed,  and  if  you  place  your  finger  on  it  you  will 
soon  feel  it,  when  you  extend  the  arm,  driven  away  by 
the  bone  which  glides  on  the  hinge.  Immediately  above 
this  hinge  is  a  small  hollow  between  the  two  protuber- 
ances which  terminate  the  humerus,  externally  and  in- 
ternally. The  bone  of  the  elbow  can  move  thus  far,  but 
on  reaching  the  bottom  of  the  hollow  it  strikes  against 
it  with  its  point,  and  suddenly  stops,  hence  the  impossi- 
bility of  bending  the  arm  backward,  no  matter  how  little. 
If  you  like  to  know  what  this  impertinent  point,  which 
keeps  the  arm  in  its  proper  place  is  called,  it  is  the  ole- 
cranon  or  olecranon  process.  Persons,  in  speaking  of 
accidents,  sometimes  make  use  of  this  word  to  show  their 
knowledge  ;  you  will  now  understand  it  if  you  hear  it. 

Here  we  are,  my  dear  child,  embarked  in  a  regular 
course  of  anatomy,  and  if  we  intend  to  accomplish  it  and 
amuse  ourselves  by  the  way,  we  have  no  time  to  lose. 
Take  your  courage  in  both  hands  to  follow  me  as  best 
you  can  ;  a  little  fatigue  is  an  incentive  to  the  mind  as 
well  as  to  the  body,  when  it  is  not  abused. 

In  the  little  experiment  you  have  just  made,  this  bone, 
which  chased  away  your  finger  in  moving  on  the  hume- 
rus, did  not  seem  very  large  ;  nevertheless,  if  you  touch 
the  forearm  below  the  elbow,  you  will  find  that  it  is  a 
bone  of  considerable  size.  How  does  it  happen  that  this 
large  bone  becomes  all  at  once  so  small,  just  at  the  spot 
where  it  would  seem  to  require  all  its  force  ? 

This  is  a  problem  requiring  reflection,  did  I  not  save 
you  the  trouble.  We  have  two  bones  which  run  parallel, 
the  one  to  the  other,  throughout  the  length  of  the  fore- 


94  THE   ARMS   AND   LEGS. 

arm,  and  the  space  which  separates  them  is  so  well  filled 
by  muscles  that  the  two  appear  as  one.  Besides  this, 
they  are  united  by  numerous  ligaments,  and  a  long  cov- 
ering of  a  particular  kind,  such  as  we  shall  presently  see 
when  speaking  of  the  muscles,  passes  from  one  to  the 
other,  from  the  elbow  to  the  wrist  You  will  easily 
understand  mistakes  being  made  when  we  are  hot  ac- 
quainted with  these  facts,  and,  packed  together  as  they 
are,  they  are  apt  to  deceive  young  people  who,  left  to 
themselves,  would  never  discover  the  truth. 

Two  bones  have  been  placed  here  for  a  good  reason. 
Are  you  aware  how  very  little  strength  you  would  have 
in  your  hand,  if  aided  solely  by  its  particular  muscles, 
your  hand  turned  upon  your  forearm,  as  your  head  turns 
upon  your  neck  ?  The  smallest  effort  would  draw  it  to 
one  side,  and  the  best  of  cooks  with  the  best  intentions 
would  be  utterly  incapable  of  tossing  a  pancake. 

Happily  the  hand  is  not  left  to  depend  upon  its  own 
resources.  It  is  firmly  bound  at  the  wrist  to  a  bone,  the 
radius,  which  directs  it  in  all  its  movements,  and  which 
accompanies  the  ulna,  or  cubitus,  the  whole  length  of  the 
forearm.  The  little  round  prominence  close  to  the  wrist, 
in  a  line  from  your  little  finger,  is  the  extremity  of  the 
cubitus.  Immediately  beside  it,  commences  the  bone 
which  supports  the  hand,  which  here  spreads  out  and 
attaches  itself,  by  a  larger  surface,  to  the  wrist,  and  then 
terminates  at  the  elbow  in  a  sort  of  small  crown,  similar 
to  the  one  at  the  lower  extremity  of  the  cubitus.  In 
this  manner,  the  two  bones  appear  to  be  of  the  same 
dimensions  at  each  end,  the  smaller  extremity  of  the  one 
leaning  against  the  larger  extremity  of  the  other. 

As  you  bend  your  arm,  the  movement  is  performed  by 
the  hinge  of  the  cubitus,  whilst  its  neighbor  remains 
passive.  When  you  turn  your  hand,  it  is  the  neighbor 


THE   AEMS   AND   LEGS.  95 

which  is  the  acting  power,  the  cubitus  in  its  turn  being 
passive.  The  elbow  and  the  hand  have  each  its  own 
particular  agent,  otherwise  you  could  not  turn  your 
hand  without  moving  the  whole  arm  from  the  shoulder 
down,  for  the  grooves  at  the  elbow-joint  are  too  firmly 
secured,  one  into  the  other,  to  admit  of  the  smallest  de- 
viation to  one  side.  Judge  for  yourself  how-  easy  it 
would  be. '  Take  hold  of  your  arm  above  the  wrist ; 
hold  it  very  tightly,  so  as  to  prevent  the  movement  of 
the  bone  charged  to  aid  the  hand,  and  you  will  see  what 
contortions  of  the  shoulder  are  necessary  in  order  to 
turn  the  palm  of  your  hand  outward. 

I  must  now  tell  you  the  name  of  this  bone,  without 
which  knitting  a  stocking  would  be  a  terrible  affair.  It 
is  called  the  radius,  from  the  Latin  word,  signifying  ray, 
or  spoke.  If  you  see  no  connexion  between  the  two, 
recollect  that  wheels  have  spokes.  Again,  wheels  turn, 
and  the  radius  turns  the  hand ;  but  this,  I  think,  is  a 
little  far-fetched.  But  as  there  are  many  words  which 
signify  nothing  at  all,  we  must  not  be  too  exacting  as 
regards  those  which  seem  to  have  a  meaning. 

At  length  comes  the  hand.  You  are  pretty  well  ac- 
quainted with  it,  I  presume,  and  what  I  have  to  tell  you 
about  it  will  not  be  difficult.  Like  the  arm  it  is  divided 
into  three  parts — the  carpus,  the  metacarpus,  and  the 
fingers. 

The  carpus  is  the  scientific  name  for  the  wrist.  It  is 
composed  of  two  rows  of  bones,  each  row  consisting  of 
four,  closely  pressed  one  against  the  other,  and  arranged 
so  as  to  leave  a  passage  in  the  intermediate  space  for  the 
nerves  and  arteries  of  the  hand,  which  traverse  the  wrist 
through  tunnels,  much  in  the  same  way  as  railways  do 
mountains,  where  these  precious  organs  are  sheltered 
from  all  accidents.  The  veins,  less  delicate,  pass  nearer 


96  THE   ARMS   AND   LEGS. 

the  surface,  when  they  separate,  forming  raised  lines, 
clearly  perceived — if  not  on  your  little  hands,  which 
have  not  yet  been  accustomed  to  work,  they  are  plainly 
visible  on  the  hands  of  those  inured  to  manual  labor.  It 
is,  in  fact,  on  the  back  of  the  hand  that  the  proverb 
which  you,  perhaps,  have  yet  to  learn,  is  best  verified, 
"  Who  sees  his  veins,  sees  his  pains."  Believe  me,  if  it 
is  prettier  to  have  tiny  veins  well  hidden  under  the  skin, 
it  is  more  glorious  to  have  them  visible. 

Each  little  bone  in  the  wrist  has  a  name  j  but  it  is 
useless  to  go  on  telling  you  of  them  one  by  one.  The 
scaphoid,  the  trapezium,  the  os  magnum  or  great  bone, 
and  the  semi-lunar.  All  this  cannot  be  very  interesting. 
There  is,  however,  one  to  which  I  wish  to  call  your  at- 
tention, for  the  curiosity  and  originality  of  the  thing,  for 
it  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  superfluity,  and  appears  to  an- 
swer no  purpose.  This  is  the  pisiforme,  a  word  implying 
a  bone  in  the  shape  of  a  pea,  and  it  is  in  reality  some- 
what like  a  large  dried  pea. 

Bend  your  hand  forward.  At  the  spot  where  it  plays 
upon  the  head  of  the  radius,  you  will  easily  ascertain  this 
spot  by  pinching  the  joint  with  your  thumb  and  first 
finger,  the  little  ball  of  the  pisiforme  will  glide  under 
your  finger  with  each  movement  of  the  hand.  The  pisi- 
forme seems  thrown  to  the  extremity  of  the  first  row  on 
the  inner  corner  of  the  wrist,  like  an  advanced  sentinel 
who  takes  no  share  in  the  manoeuvres  of  his  battalion  ; 
and,  in  fact,  this  little  bone  plays  no  part  in  the  move- 
ments executed  by  his  big  comrades. 

As  you  may  readily  imagine,  these  movements  are  not 
extensive.  The  carpal  bones  are  tightly  compressed  one 
against  the  other  by  a  triple  row  of  ligaments  ;  a  single 
synovial  membrane,  the  folds  of  which  bury  themselves 
in  the  tiny  hollows  of  their  articulation,  covers  the  whole. 


THE   ARMS   AND   LEGS.  97 

Thus  packed  up,  they  can  hardly  move  from  their  place. 
An  almost  imperceptible  sliding  takes  place  between 
the  bones  of  each  row.  Between  the  two  rows  the  move- 
ment is  more  sensible,  for  the  joint  uniting  them  has 
rounded  surfaces,  which  permit  of  their  being  more 
readily  displaced.  Having  mentioned  the  os  magnum, 
or  great  bone,  I  may  as  well  remark,  that  it  is  on  this 
bone  that  the  movements  in  the  interior  of  the  wrist  are 
chiefly  performed,  and  it  sometimes  happens  that  it  is 
thrown  out  of  its  place  ;  as  it  is  the  only  one  of  this  band 
exposed  to  such  an  accident,  I  will  tell  you  how  to  find 
the  bone.  Follow,  as  far  as  the  wrist,  the  continuation 
of  the  bone  which  forms  the  middle  finger,  and  of  which 
we  shall  speak  immediately,  and  you  will  light  on 
the  os  magnum.  It  is  the  third  in  the  second  row, 
counting  from  the  thumb,  and  its  name  sufficiently  shows 
that  it  is  the  largest  of  the  whole.  It  is  rounded  at  the 
base,  and  fits  easily  into  the  scaphoid,  the  leader  of  the 
other  row,  which  is  hollowed  in  the  form  of  a  boat,  a 
shape  favorable  to  a  balancing  movement.  Hence  the 
harsh  term  scaphoid, — scapha  being  the  Latin  for  a 
boat. 

I  see  that  we  are  becoming  very  learned.  While  on  this 
subject,  let  us  pass  on  to  the  metacarpus. 

This  is  derived  from  the  Greek,  and,  imposing  as  it 
sounds,  is  easily  explained.  It  simply  means  that  which 
is  after,  or  which  follows  the  carpus. 

That  part  which  is  above  the  carpus,  or  the  wrist,  is 
the  fleshy  part  of  the  hand  from  whence  the  fingers  issue. 
You  already  know,  I  have  no  doubt,  that  the  fingers 
have  three  phalanges,  this  is  the  name  given  to  their 
division,  besides  you  have  only  to  look  at  your  fingers. 
If  you  ever  have  courage,  when  visiting  a  museum,  to  ex- 
amine the  hand  of  a  skeleton,  you  will  find  no  trace  of 
5 


98  THE  ARMS  AND   LEGS. 

what  we  call  the  palm  ;  but  you  will  see  extraordinarily 
long  fingers,  with  four  instead  of  three  phalanges,  con- 
tinuing in  a  straight  line  to  the  wrist.  This  fourth  pha- 
lange is  invisible  during  life,  being  lost  in  muscles,  and 
enveloped  in  a  covering  of  skin.  It  is  called  the  met- 
acarpus, and  is  simply  a  continuation  of  the  fingers  in  the 
thickness  of  the  hand.  I  caused  you  just  now  to  trace 
the  continuation  of  the  middle  finger  ;  do  the  same  with 
the  others,  and  you  will  easily  be  convinced  of  the  fact. 

The  metacarpal  bones  articulate  with  those  of  the 
second  row  of  the  carpal,  into  the  hollows  of  which  they 
fit  easily,  and  as  they  are  closely  compressed  at  the  base, 
it  follows  that  their  movements  are  very  limited,  being 
reduced  to  certain  slight  inflexions,  which  serve,  however, 
in  some  instances,  to  increase  the  curvature  of  the  palm. 
Try  to  hold  some  water  in  the  hollow  of  your  hand  :  the 
efforts  you  make  to  prevent  its  running  over  entirely 
proceed  from  the  metacarpal  bones,  particularly  from  those 
which  are  continuations  of  the  fore  and  little  finger. 
These  will  be  slightly  raised  on  either  side,  so  as  to 
form  a  kind  of  barrier  to  retain  the  water  which  would 
otherwise  escape.  Yet  you  will  not  keep  your  hand  long 
in  this  position  without  discomfort.  The  fatigue  you  ex- 
perience will  teach  you  how  little  the  metacarpal  bones 
care  to  change  their  usual  position. 

Among  the  five  metacarpals  there  is  one  which  forms 
an  exception,  and  this  is  the  thumb. 

I  have  already  spoken  at  some  length  of  the  .thumb, 
and  the  service  it  renders  us.  It  was  with  it,  if  I  remem- 
ber rightly,  that  we  commenced  our  history  of  a  Mouth- 
ful of  Bread. 

"  Consider  with  respect  your  little  thumb  ;  it  is  to  its 
three  little  bones  covered  over  with  a  little  flesh  that  man 
owes  part  of  his  physical  superiority  to  other  animals." 


THE  ARMS   AND  LEGS.  99 

I  could  scarcely  speak  differently  to  a  child  who  knew 
nothing  about  metacarpal  bones.  Now  I  can  say  to  you, 
"  it  is  to  its  three  little  bones,"  etc.  In  reality,  the  me- 
tacarpal bone  of  the  thumb  differs  from  its  four  neighbors, 
which  are  immovable  columns,  planted,  as  we  may  say, 
in  the  wrist,  having  scarcely  any  other  duty  than  that  of 
supporting  the  fingers.  It  is  an  alert  and  bustling  agent, 
going  and  coming  with  perfect  ease,  moving  its  two 
phalanges  from  one  finger  to  another,  and  all  the  honor 
of  the  meeting  reverts  to  it  by  right,  for,  like  the  other 
phalanges,  those  of  the  thumb  have  no  other  movement 
than  of  flexion  forward  ;  all  are  alike  unable  to  balance 
themselves  upon  their  base.  Here  the  base  is  short,  thick- 
set, double  the  size  of  the  others,  as  is  necessary  to  a 
wrestler,  destined  to  keep  four  antagonists  in  order  at 
once.  Instead  of  the  articulating  surface  being  square 
in  form  like  the  rest  of  the  metacarpal  bones,  that  of  the 
thumb  is  slightly  hollowed  at  the  base,  and  rolls  with 
ease  on  its  supporter,  the  carpal  bone,  the  end  of  which 
is  rounded  in  the  form  of  a  saddle. 

This  is  the  trapezium,  and  now  that  gymnastics  are  so 
much  in  fashion,  this  name  will  not  appear  strange  to 
you.  On  examining  it  narrowly,  you  will  see  that  the 
exceptional  play  of  the  thumb  proceeds  in  reality  from 
this  bone.  Placed  at  the  corner  of  his  row,  he  leans  for- 
ward like  a  corporal  advancing  his  body  to  ascertain  that 
his  men  are  all  in  line.  It  is  on  this  prolongation  that 
the  metacarpal  of  the  thumb  is  seated,  thus  manoeuvring  on 
another  line  than  his  comrades,  the  immediate  contact 
with  whom  would  have  paralysed  all  his  movements.  In 
short,  it  is  to  the  advance  of  the  trapezium  carrying  the 
thumb  beyond  its  ranks,  that  this  member  owes  its  faculty, 
so  precious  a  one  for  us,  of  being  able  to  face  all  the  other 
fingers.  See  how  useful  it  is  to  know  everything.  There 


100  THE  ARMS  AND  LEGS. 

are  also  in  the  world  many  important  personages 
who  cut  a  great  figure,  and  whose  names  are  in  every- 
body's mouth,  but  if  we  knew  all,  we  should  often  find 
that  their  great  importance  has  its  origin  in  some  ob- 
scure corner,  about  which  no  one  ever  thinks  or  concerns 
himself,  though  in  it  might  be  found  the  secret  of  the 
position  which  they  occupy. 

Another  consequence  of  this  arrangement  is.  that  in 
grasping  anything  tightly  the  efforts  made  by  the  fingers 
are  directed  to  the  metacarpus,  which  acts  as  a  resting 
place  for  them,  whilst  the  thumb  seeks  its  point  of  sup- 
port on  the  carpal,  where  its  pivot  is.  The  opposing 
resistance  being  thus  distributed  over  two  different 
places,  the  discomfort  is  lessened,  and  more  force  can  be 
employed  with  less  fatigue. 

You  now  know  almost  all  I  have  to  say  about  the 
hand.  For  what  can  I  teach  you  concerning  your  fin- 
gers ?  you  know  their  various  uses  too  well  to  require 
further  instruction.  You  see  the  movement  of  all  the 
phalanges  on  themselves  and  on  the  metacarpal  is  the 
same  ;  the  joints  also  are  exactly  alike.  They  are  com- 
posed of  two  surfaces,  rounded  in  front  in  the  direction 
in  which  the  finger  bends  with  a  small  pad  behind  to 
prevent  their  bending  backward.  Their  excessive  mo- 
bility plainly  shows  that  their  hinges  are  well  oiled,  and 
in  reality  their  synovial  membranes  present  a  very  con- 
siderable development,  worthy  of  being  brought  under 
the  notice  of  young  ladies  who  play  the  piano,  for  they 
have  sometimes  pieces  given  them  to  play,  the  correct 
execution  of  which  exacts  a  terrible  outlay  of  synovia. 

Now  one  last  bit  of  information  about  the  phalanges. 
They  are  flat  inside  and  rounded  at  the  back.  This 
seems  a  trifling  remark,  but  nothing  is  unimportant  in 
our  machine.  If  the  phalanges  were  round  like  a  wand, 


THE   AKMS   AND   LEGS.  101 

small  objects  would-  slip  from  our  fingers  ;  if  they  were 
lath-shaped  they  would  be  wanting  in  strength  to  resist 
violent  efforts.  Lath-shaped  on  the  side  which  works, 
wand-shaped  on  the  side  which  has  nothing  to  do,  they 
can  seize  objects  firmly  and  solidly,  and  the  reason  for 
their  particular  conformation  is  so  evident,  that  we  find 
the  metacarpal  phalanges,  which  are  not  intended  to 
take  hold  of  objects,  are  simply  wand-shaped,  almost  as 
round  on  the  inner  as  on  the  outer  surface. 

If  you  take  a  glance  at  the  arm  you  will  see  that  its 
frame  work  is  always  spreading  out  from  above  down- 
ward, gaining  in  mobility  what  it  loses  in  solidity.  First 
a  single  bone,  strong  and  massive,  the  humerus,  which 
is,  as  it  were,  the  trunk  of  this  tree  of  a  new  species. 
Then  the  two  branches,  the  ulna  and  the  radius,  each 
with  its  peculiar  movement.  Then  the  numerous  subdi- 
visions of  the  hand,  first  condensed  in  the  carpus  in  a 
compact  mass  ;  next  less  constrained,  but  still  kept  in  their 
place  in  the  metacarpus,  free  at  length  and  able  to  sepa- 
rate from  one  another,  in  the  fingers  which  represent 
the  expansion  of  the  last  branches. 

I  should  like  to  know,  could  we  condense  the  wood 
of  all  the  branches  and  twigs  of  an  oak,  whether  the 
amount  would  be  the  same  as  that  contained  in  the  trunk 
of  the  tree.  If  so,  it  is  precisely  what  is  observed  in  the 
case  of  the  arm.  We  find  the  quantity  of  osseous  or 
bony  matter,  in  point  of  measurement,  to  be  the  same 
throughout  the  entire  length  of  the  arm,  only  in  one  part 
it  is  condensed  in  order  to  give  solidity  ;  in  the  other  it 
is  divided  to  increase  its  powers  of  movement.  Weighed 
separately,  the  bones  in  the  hand  represent  a  fifth  part 
of  the  total  weight  of  the  bones  of  the  arm.  Measure 
your  hand,  and  you  will  find  it  will  be  a  fifth  the  entire 
length  of  your  arm  :  thus  out  of  a  piece  of  humerus  of 


102  THE   ARMS   AND   LEGS. 

this  length,  you  would  be  able  to  cut  the  materials  of 
the  two  rows  of  carpal  bones  and  the  nineteen  phalanges 
of  the  five  fingers,  including  the  metacarpal  bones.  In 
like  manner,  if  the  phalanges  and  the  small  bones  of  the 
carpus  could  be  melted  like  lead  and  cast  in  a  mould,  a 
piece  of  humerus  the  length  of  the  hand  would  be  pro- 
duced. But  this  is  an  operation  I  would  recommend  no 
one  to  have  recourse  to  ;  we  should  gain  nothing  by  it. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE. ARMS  AND   LEGS — (Continued.) 

I  MUST  have  tired  you  greatly,  my  dear  child,  with 
this  humerus,  ulna,  radius,  carpus,  metacarpus,  and  these 
other  strange  names  I  have  been  forced  to  bring  before 
you,  and  I  see  with  horror  that  in  coming  to  the  leg  we 
must  go  over  the  same  ground  again.  The  history  of 
the  leg  is  but  a  repetition  of  that  of  the  arm  ;  but  unfor- 
tunately such  differences  exist  as  to  render  it  necessary 
to  commence  from  the  top  and  work  downward.  We 
must  consequently  again  travel  over  the  same  road  we 
did  before.  This  is  scarcely  to  be  regretted,  seeing  that 
the  real  way  to  know  a  road  well  is  to  travel  it  twice. 
You  will  have  here  a  remarkable  example  of  the  way  in 
which  nature  adapts  to  different  uses  two  organs  con- 
structed from  the  same  elements,  by  introducing  some 
special  dispositions  into  each. 

After  closely  examining  the  arm  and  leg  side  by  side, 
we  should  almost  be  tempted  to  regard  the  former  as  a 
leg  for  taking  hold  of  objects,  and  the  latter  as  an  arm 
intended  to  walk  with,  each  one  accommodating  itself  as 
much  as  possible  to  the  peculiar  work  demanded  of  it. 
When  young  willows  are  planted  with  the  head  down- 
ward, the  roots  become  branches  and  the  branches  roots, 
but  such  a  change  could  never  take  place  in  the  members 
of  the  human  body,  though  the  absence  of  one  limb  gen- 
erally calls  forth  extra  power  on  the  part  of  the  remain- 

(103) 


104:  THE  ARMS  AND  LEGS. 

ing  ones,  in  which  statement  the  following  story  will 
bear  me  out : — 

About  fifteen  years  ago  there  lived  a  painter  in  Paris, 
who  signed  all  his  pictures  "  Ducornet,  ne  sans  bras," 
(born  without  arms).  You  need  not  rack  your  brain  in 
order  to  discover  how  he  could  write  ;  his  signature  was 
made  with  his  foot,  and  it  was  with  it  also,  as  you  may 
suppose,  that  his  paintings  were  all  executed.  That 
foot,  however,  had  never  trodden  the  ground.  Deprived 
of  half  his  limbs,  this  poor  child's  parents  were  obliged 
to  choose  his  line  of  life  for  him,  and  they  decided  that 
his  legs  must  be  taught  to  supply  the  place  of  arms. 
Nothing  more  was  necessary  than  to  suppress  the  service 
they  were  destined  to  perform,  in  order,  if  possible,  to 
constrain  them  to  do  the  work  for  which  nature  had  not 
provided  suitable  members.  He  was  wheeled  from  one 
room  to  another,  and  when  he  went  out,  his  father  carried 
him  on  his  back.  I  met  them  several  times  in  Paris  on 
the  Pont  des  Arts,  so  I  do  not  speak  from  hearsay  ;  and 
one  day  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  see  this  armless  artist 
at  work  in  his  studio.  Half  reclining  on  a  peculiarly 
shaped  stool,  he  balanced  himself  with  ease  and  firmness, 
grasped  his  maulstick  and  palette  with  the  left  great 
toe,  and  with  the  right  used  his  brush  with  perfect  facil- 
ity. If  his  drawings  were  not  masterpieces,  we  must 
not  blame  his  foot ;  for  all  painters  possessed  of  hands 
do  not  produce  chefs-cTceuvre.  I  cannot  exactly  tell  you 
the  anatomical  changes  this  leg,  called  to  other  functions, 
had  undergone  in  the  short  space  of  a  man's  life,  not 
being  sufficiently  intimate  to  ask  permission  to  examine 
the  limbs  ;  but  upon  seeing  them  acting,  I  felt  convinced 
they  were  no  longer  exactly  like  other  men's  legs.  The 
toes,  at  least  from  what  we  could  see  of  them,  were 
tapered  and  elongated,  imitating,  as  it  were,  fingers  ; 


THE   ARMS   AND   LEGS.  105 

and  I  know  two  bones,  of  which  I  must  speak  presently, 
that  in  other  people  occupy  a  considerable  space  at  the 
heel,  were  in  this  instance,  probably  from  want  of  exer- 
cise, undeveloped ;  and  without  having  examined  the 
foot,  I  dare  almost  venture  to  assert  that  these  two 
bones  nearly  approached  the  modest  proportions  of  the 
small  bones  of  the  wrist.*  This  story  concluded,  let  us 
hasten  to  finish  the  history  of  these  bones,  for  I  imagine 
you  are  beginning  to  tire  of  it.  Fortunately,  we  are 
nearly  through  with  it. 

The  leg,  I  have  said,  is  a  repetition  of  the  arm.  You 
must  then  expect  to  find  in  it  all  you  met  with  in  the 
arm,  only  in  a  much  more  solid  form. 

First,  I  shall  commence  with  the  foundation  on  which 
it  may  be  said  to  rest,  and  this  we  cannot  expect  to  find 
movable  as  is  the  shoulder,  scapula,  which  changes  posi- 
tion with  each  movement  of  the  arm.  Mobility  in  this 
bone  would  render  the  gait  undecided,  and  you  would 
be  exposed  to  falls  when  you  attempted  to  run.  Here 
the  base  is  the  hip-bone,  which  of  course  you  must  know  ; 
it  rests  on  either  side  against  the  vertebral  column,  just 
at  the  point  where  this  latter  is  most  solid,  and  where 
the  vertebras  are  firmly  joined  together  to  form  the 
massive  sacrum,  which  I  hope  you  have  not  yet  forgotten. 
All  is  here  immovable,  and  we  have,  as  soldiers  say,  a 
solid  base  of  operation. 

In  the  thickness  of  the  haunch  we  find  two  cavities 
similar  to  those  we  remarked,  when  speaking  of  the 
arm,  as  receiving  the  head  of  the  humerus,  but  much 

*  Ducornet  is  not  a  solitary  instance  on  record.  Only  recently  the 
papers  spoke  of  a  young  Belgian  painter  who  was  born  without 
arms,  Mr.  Charles  Fein.  His  paintings  were  last  year  exhibited  in 
Paris  with  great  success.  When  seated,  he  is  said  to  use  his  feet 
with  as  much  ease  as  other  people  do  their  hands. 

5* 


106  THE  ARMS  AND  LEGS. 

deeper,  so  that  the  ball  with  which  the  femur  termin- 
ates is  almost  completely  embraced.  Femur  is  the  name 
given  by  the  Latins  to  the  thigh  bone,  the  largest  and 
heaviest  of  all  the  bones  in  the  human  body  ;  so  large 
and  so  heavy  that  in  taking  up  a  femur  one  would  ima- 
gine it  to  be  a  club.  This  is  not  an  original  idea. 
Travellers  in  uncivilized  countries  have  more  than  once 
seen  warriors  with  these  'natural  clubs  at  their  waists — 
weapons  borrowed  from  death  to  produce  death.  This 
might  be  cited  a§  one  of  man's  most  horrid  inventions, 
for  it  evidently  belongs  to  the  infancy  of  the  art  of  war ; 
we  certainly  tower  far  above  these  savage  nations,  with 
our  newly-invented  cannons  of  to-day. 

The  femur  is  not  placed  in  direct  line  under  the  hol- 
lowed cavity  of  the  hip.  Its  upper  extremity  is  two  or 
three  inches  further  outward,  but  is  joined  to  it  by  means 
of  a  sort  of  elbow  which  supports  the  terminating  ball, 
and  is  called  the  neck  of  the  femur. 

If  you  wish  to  form  an  idea  of  the  appearance  of  this 
joint,  just  imagine  the  wax  model  of  a  foot  with  a  high 
instep,  and  all  the  toes  rolled  up  like  a  ball.  This  com- 
parison came  into  my  mind  whilst  I  was  looking  at  the 
profile  of  the  femur  I  have  before  me,  turned  upside 
down  and  resting  on  its  upper  extremity.  In  this  posi- 
tion the  neck  of  the  femur-pretty  nearly  represents  what 
is  called  the  instep,  the  ankle  may  also  be  found  there, 
represented  by  a  large  projection,  one  of  those  apophyses 
of  which  I  have  so  often  spoken  to  you,  to  which  one  of 
the  tendons  is  attached  which  puts  the  femur  in  move- 
ment. As  to  the  heel !  here  I  own  the  resemblance  is 
less  striking.  It  is  more  hollowed  and  bent  inward 
than  we  find  in  the  actual  heel.  You  must  imagine  the 
thumb  to  have  dealt  a  blow  in  the  wax  so  as  visibly  to 
lengthen  it.  This  elongation  forms  another  apophysis 


THE  ARMS  AND   LEGS.  107 

large  and  flat,  to  which  are  attached  certain  tendons 
and  muscles  of  the  femur.  Are  you  anxious  to  hear  the 
name  of  these  two  apophyses  ?  One  answers  for  both  ; 
this  is  rather  curious,  but  never  mind.  The  ankle  is 
called  the  small,  and  the  heel  the  large  trochanter. 
Here,  however,  my  modicum  of  learning  is  at  fault.  I 
have  searched  in  vain  to  discover  the  meaning  of  this 
word,  and  can  nowhere  find  what  it  signifies.  If  you 
meet  with  any  medical  man  able  to  tell  you,  I  shall  be 
very  glad. 

The  femur  increases  in  size  as  it  approaches  the  knee, 
of  which  it  occupies  the  whole  width.  Just  feel,  and 
you  will  see  how  large  a  projection  it  makes  at  this 
part,  and  if  you  move  your  leg  whilst  holding  your  knee 
tightly  between  your  fingers,  you  will  easily  understand 
the  play  of  the  joint.  There  are  two  large  bones  of 
almost  equal  size,  rolling  'one  upon  the  other  backward 
and  forward,  nothing  interfering  with  this  movement 
except  the  muscles  of  the  thigh  and  of  the  calf  of  the 
leg.  If  the  leg  be  bent  too  far,  these  bones  strike 
against  each  other,  without  which  the  heel  might  be 
bent  to  touch  the  neck  of  the  femur,  as  it  naturally  does 
in  the  leg  of  a  skeleton  which  we  can  fold  in  two. 

You  remember  the  olecranon,  that  point  of  the  ulna 
which  at  the  elbow  enters  into  a  hollow  in  the  humerus, 
and  forms  an  invincible  obstacle  to  the  arm  being 
thrown  backward.  Its  counterpart  is  not  found  in  the 
leg,  yet  the  leg  cannot  be  bent  forward.  There  is  an 
obstacle  quite  as  serious  as  the  bony  point  in  the  arm, 
nay,  even  more  so,  for  it  is  less  liable  to  be  broken.  Put 
your  hand  to  the  hollow  of  your  knee — you  will  feel 
something  like  cords  which  you  would  almost  mistake 
for  bones  when  they  stiffen.  These  are  the  tendons  of 
which  I  was  just  speaking,  and  if  you  stretch  your  log 


108  THE  ABMS  AND   LEGS. 

forcibly,  you  will  easily  perceive  that  you  must  break 
them  to  make  it  go  farther.  Now  the  tendons  are  cords 
which  do  not  break  so  easily  as  our  hempen  ones,  and 
what  is  held  by  them  is  perfectly  secured  and  may  be 
trusted  to.  There  are  also  very  s.trong  ligaments  round 
the  joint,  which,  when  required,  oppose  all  irregular 
movement,  and  the  articulating  surfaces  of  the  two 
bones  are  arranged  so  as  to  prevent  any  gliding  in  an 
unnatural  way,  or  from  side  to  side. 

I  shall  now  pass  on  to  the  great  curiosity  of  the  knee — 
the  patella,  or  knee-pan.  The  name  is  familiar  to  most 
persons,  but  few  are  acquainted  with  its  history. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  ARMS  AND  LEGS — (Continued.) 

THE  patella  is  not  a  bone  like  the  other  bones  and 
we  shall  find  in  it  some  features  entirely  new.  First, 
let  us  see  how  it  is  formed,  and  where  it  is  placed. 

It  is  a  flat  body  almost  oval  in  shape,  and  may  be 
compared  to  a  small  flattened  heart,  but  owing  to  the 
folds  in  which  it  is  partly  concealed,  the  shape  is  dif- 
ficult to  trace  with  the  finger,  especially  at  its  lower 
part,  where  its  apex  is.  It  is  situated  in  front  of  the 
knee  joint,  and  follows  the  movement  of  the  bone  of 
the  leg,  against  which  it  presses  as  the  leg  bends.  This 
bone  is  of  valuable  assistance  to  us  when  we  kneel,  sus- 
taining as  it  does,  when  in  this  position,  the  weight  of 
the  body,  to  which  it  furnishes  a  larger  and  more  regular 
or  uniform  point  of  support  than  the  bony  projections 
situated  beneath  it  could  do.  When  you  were  quite 
little  you  had  no  patella — at  your  birth  you  had  not 
even  a  trace  of  one.  This  is,  by  the  way,  one  of  the 
reasons  why  little  children  have  so  much  difficulty  in 
kneeling.  The  patella,  it  is  true,  makes  its  appearance 
like  all  the  rest  of  the  bones  under  a  cartilaginous  form, 
differing,  as  I  shall  explain,  from  other  cartilages.  I 
shall  in  passing  give  you  some  details  which  have  not 
hitherto  been  comprised  in  the  general  description  of 
the  bones  of 'a  skeleton. 

When  we  together  examined  the  way  in  which  the 
same  blood  nourishes  so  many  different  organs,  assigning 

(109) 


110  THE  ARMS  AND  LEGS. 

to  each  exactly  what  it  requires,  I  told  you  what  hap- 
pens to  old  people  whose  bones,  laden  with  phosphate  of 
lime,  do  not  readily  take  up  any  more.  The  blood,  not 
knowing  what  to  do  with  the  phosphate  of  lime  it  con- 
tains, deposits  it  as  best  it  can  among  the  muscles  and  on 
the  arteries,  until  at  length  they  become  ossified,  and 
death  of  the  tissues  ensues,  their  natural  functions  being 
destroyed. 

What  may  here  be  considered  an  accident  and  the 
forerunner  of  death,  is  a  natural  process  in  the  early 
stages  of  life  among  some  of  the  articular  ligaments  and 
tendons.  I  must  now,  for  once,  anticipate  a  little,  and 
tell  you  what  is  really  meant  by  a  tendon,  after  which  I 
shall  return  to  my  subject. 

The  tendons  are  a  species  of  whitish  cord,  by  which 
muscles  are  terminated.  They  are  attached  to  bones 
which  they  set  in  movement.  In  themselves  inert,  and 
devoid,  like  their  fellows  the  ligaments,  of  all  sensibility 
except  when  they  are  tormented,  the  tendons  are  in 
reality  nothing  but  bundles  of  thread,  or  fibres,  to  use 
the  scientific  expression.  They  belong  to  what  anato- 
mists call  the  fibrous  system,  a  word  which  is  not  new  to 
you,  since  we  spoke  of  fibrous  capsules,  and  their  duty  is 
a  passive  one.  The  fibrous  organs,  which  we  find  every- 
where associated  with  the  bones,  seem  to  a  certain  ex- 
tent to  partake  of  the  life  of  these  latter,  and  form  a 
group  with  them.  Is  sympathy  of  neighborhood  the 
cause  of  this  ?  This,  I  dare  not  assert ;  but  certain  it  is, 
that  both  are  greedy  of  the  phosphate  of  lime,  and  readily 
absorb  it  as  it  passes,  through  sheer  gluttony,  as  far  as 
we  can  judge,  for  this  material  has  nothing  to  do  there, 
nothing  at  least  that  we  can  understand.  The  result  of 
this  is  the  appearance  of  a  number  of  little  bones  smug- 
gled in  as  it  were,  and  which  we  all  at  once  find  taste- 


THE   ARMS   AND    LEGS.  Ill 

fully  lodged  in  the  thickness  of  the  fibres,  and  to  which 
has  been  given  the  name  sesamoids. 

You  remember  the  pisiforme  in  the  wrist,  so  named 
from  the  resemblance  it  bears  to  a  pea.  The  sesamoid 
bones  take  their  name  from  their  resemblance  to  the 
seeds  of  the  sesamum  indicum,  a  small  grain  of  the  form 
of  an  egg  from  which  oil  is  extracted.  I  conclude  from 
this  that  they  must  have  nearly  this  shape  ;  as  they  do 
not  form  a  part  of  our  bony  structure,  they  are  not  to 
be  seen  in  the  skeleton.  They  appear  in  early  life,  and 
continue  gradually  increasing  in  proportion  as  years 
pass  on.  Some,  however,  like  wisdom-teeth,  only  appear 
at  twenty  to  thirty,  or  even  forty  years  of  age.  Nothing 
is  so  capricious  as  the  formation  of  the  sesamoids.  They 
never  venture  into  the  trunk,  having  a  partiality  for  the 
articular  ligaments  of  the  fingers  and  toes.  In  the 
thumb,  two  are  to  be  found  in  the  ligament  which  at- 
taches it  to  the  metacarpus,  and  they  are  also  found  in 
the  great  toe,  but  for  the  other  fingers  and  toes  there  .is 
no  rule.  Sometimes  they  are  only  to  be  found  in  the 
articulations  of  the  metacarpus,  and  sometimes  we  do 
not  find  them  there ;  at  other  times  they  slip  into  the 
joints  of  the  phalanges.  It  is  all  chance,  like  the  shape 
of  your  nose  or  the  color  of  your  eyes.  Chance,  do  I 
say  ?  certainly  there  is  a  reason  for  this  if  we  did  but 
know  it.  Bichat  having  observed  a  great  development 
of  sesamoids  on  the  feet  of  persons  suffering  from  gout, 
modestly  supposes  that  there  may  be  some  connexion 
between  these  little  bony  formations  and  the  capricious 
malady  which  often  puzzles  the  doctor  as  much  as  it 
causes  suffering  to  the  patient.  Admitting  this  supposi- 
tion, we  should  require  to  ascertain  whether  the  devel- 
opment of  the  sesamoid  produces  gout,  or  whether  gout 
produces  the  development  of  the  sesamoids. 


112  THE   ARMS   AND   LEGS. 

You  do  not  guess,  perhaps,  why  I  have  run  away  from 
my  subject  to  give  you  this  history  of  the  sesamoids,  of 
which  no  one  ever  speaks  ;  well,  it  is  simply  because  the 
patella  is  nothing  more  than  a  sesamoid.  Queen  of  the 
band,  it  is  true,  not  only  on  account  of  its  size,  but  for 
its  known  utility  ;  yet  in  spite  of  its  notoriety,  it  is  no 
less  the  offspring  of  the  fibrous  system,  an  illegitimate 
bone  like  its  kindred.  This  explains  a  great  anomaly, 
the  only  one  you  have  as  yet  met  with,  of  an  articulation 
formed  by  the  meeting  or  play  of  three  bones  all  in 
movement  at  one  time  ;  elsewhere  we  only  find  two  in 
the  formation  of  a  simple  joint.  The  cause  of  the  ano- 
maly is,  that  in  the  knee  joint  one  of  the  three  bones  is  a 
smuggled  one,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  use  this  expression, 
which  I  have  already  employed.  Those  who  arrange 
skeletons  are  obliged,  on  account  of  its  importance,  to 
preserve  this  bone  in  its  proper  place,  but  this  can  only 
be  done  by  fixing  it  to  the  end  of  a  metal  band,  for  it 
is  not  attached  to,  nor  does  it  form  any  part  of,  the  bony 
fabric. 

The  knee  is  another  place  of  predilection  for  these 
fantastic  bones  engendered  by  the  fibrous  tissues  ;  so 
partial  are  they  to  it  as  to  forget  their  capricious  humor, 
and  are  invariably  found  stationary  at  either  side  of  the 
femur,  and  in  the  tendons  passing  behind  in  the  hollow 
of  the  knee.  Lastly,  the  patella  never  fails  to  display 
itself  in  the  middle  of  the  tendon  of  the  quadriceps  ex- 
tensor of  the  thigh.  Wait  patiently,  and  I  will  explain 
this  word. 

I  told  you  that  the  primitive  cartilage  of  the  patella 
is  not  formed  like  other  cartilages.  The  fibres  of  the 
tendon  which  serve  as  its  basis  continue  through  the 
gelatinous  tissue,  and  may  easily  be  distinguished  on 
the  bone,  fully  formed,  when  its  phosphate  of  lime  is  dis- 


THE   ARMS  AND   LEGS.  113 

solved  in  acid,  which,  as  you  already  know,  can  easily  be 
done. 

We  have  spent  a  long  time  over  the  patella,  but  I 
could  not  allow  this  opportunity  to  escape  of  teaching 
you  a  little  mystery  hidden  in  the  depths  of  our  organs, 
the  existence  of  which  few  except  the  learned  are  aware 
of,  and  they  only  mention  it  without  commenting  upon 
its  peculiarity. 

Should  you  ever  have  imagined  the  patella  had  a  dif- 
ferent origin  from  other  bones  ?  Well  known  as  it  is, 
its  celebrity  should  have  brought  the  obscure  class  to 
which  it  belongs  into  notice.  As  yet  so  far  from  this 
being  the  case,  you  will  see  persons  look  surprised  if 
you  begin  to  talk  of  sesamoids.  In  the  same  way  an 
upstart  often  makes  a  great  stir  in  the  world  without' 
any  one  inquiring  into  his  origin,  without  the  smallest 
ray  of  his  success  being  reflected  on  the  home  of  his 
family. 

Enough  of  all  this  ;  now  let  us  return  to  the  arms  and 
legs. 

After  the  knee  conies  the  leg  corresponding  to  the 
forearm.  To  be  consistent  we  should  say  the  foreleg, 
and  call  the  part  where  the  femur  is,  the  leg,  because  we 
called  its  corresponding  bone  where  the  humerus  is,  the 
arm.  But  we  will  leave  things  as  they  are  ;  we  should 
have  too  much  to  do  if  we  found  fault  with  all  incon- 
sistencies of  speech,  to  say  nothing  of  other  inconsisten- 
cies. 

I  have  already  informed  you  that  the  leg,  of  course  I 
mean  the  entire  leg,  is  a  repetition  of  the  arm.  You 
ought,  therefore,  to  be  prepared  to  expect  the  two  cor- 
responding bones  of  the  forearm  in  this  second  part,  and 
so  you  will  find  them  ;  but  as  the  foot  does  not  turn  on 
itself,  as  the  hand  does,  it  would  be  unfortunate  if  it  did 


114  THE   AEMS   AND   LEGS. 

so,  the  bone  which  in  the  leg  corresponds  to  the  radius 
in  the  arm,  on  the  inner  side  of  the  member,  on  a  line 
with  the  great  toe,  this  bone  articulates  at  once  with  the 
femur  above  and  with  the  foot  below.  It  does  all  the 
work  by  itself,  to  be  sure  that  it  is  properly  done,  and 
consequently  monopolises  all  the  nourishment  which  the 
blood  distributes  so  equally  between  the  two  workers  of 
the  forearm.  He  who  does  not  work  should  not  eat. 
This  is  a  law  which  ought  to  be  easily  understood  by 
man,  inasmuch  as  it  is  rigidly  observed  in  his  own  sys- 
tem. 

This  monopolist,  almost  as  massive  as  the  femur,  is 
called  the  tibia  ;  a  pretty  name,  with  an  unpleasant  asso- 
ciation. Tibia  is  the  Latin  for  a  flute  ;  the  existence  of 
'the  word  shows  that  if  our  early  warriors  used  femurs  as 
clubs,  the  flutes  of  ancient  musicians  were  as  certainly 
made  of  tibias.  Jesters  sometimes  speak  of  a  man's 
flutes,  implying  that  his  legs  are  only  skin  and  bone. 
You  will  now  understand  the  origin  of  the  joke  if  ever 
you  hear  it. 

The  tibia's  disinherited  companion  is  called  the  fibula. 
I  do  not  know  whence  derived,  but  that  is  of  no  conse- 
quence. The  bone  thus  designated  is  only  a  long  slen- 
der wand  fixed  solidly  at  its  two  extremities  ;  at  one 
end  to  the  first  bone  of  the  foot,  and  at  the  other  to  the 
tibia,  by  the  side  of  which  it  seems  to  play  the  inglorious 
part  assigned  by  the  proverb  to  the  fifth  wheel  of  a  car- 
riage ;  only  the  proverb  is  not  fully  realised  here,  since 
the  fibula  furnishes  points  of  attachment  for  the  muscles 
forming  the  calf  of  the  leg,  and  thus  it  is  so  far  useful. 
The  fibula  may,  however  be  dispensed  with,  as  in  serious 
cases  surgeons  have  been  known  to  cut  out  the  centre  of 
it  without  the  tibia  being  interrupted  in  its  work.  So 
if  you  ever  hear  people  speak  of  any  one  walking  with 


THE   ARMS  AND   LEGS.  115 

a  broken  leg,  you  may  be  sure  it  is  only  the  fibula  which 
has  been  broken.  A  broken  tibia  prostrates  a  man  as 
effectually  as  a  broken  spring  obliges  the  carriage  to 
which  it  belongs  to  discontinue  its  progress. 

At  this  moment  they  are  building  me  a  beautiful  class- 
room, in  which  it  will  be  quite  a  pleasure  to  enact  the 
professor.  You  can  understand  how  interested  I  am  in 
its  progress,  and  that  I  often  go  and  watch  the  carpen- 
ters at  their  work.  I  noticed  how  they  set  about  uniting 
two  beams  ;  in  the  one  they  hollowed  a  deep  groove, 
called  a  mortise,  and  in  the  other  they  cut  a  tenon  ;  that 
is,  a  square  projection  exactly  fitting  into  the  mortise  ; 
joined  in  this  way,  the  two  beams  formed  but  one,  and 
so  the  leg  is  fastened  on  to  the  foot. 

You  know  the  two  ankle  bones  ;  they  are  like  two 
walls  of  the  mortise,  hollowed  in  the  extremity  of  the 
tibia,  which  forms  the  inner  ankle.  The  outer  one  is 
the  extremity  of  the  fibula,  which  is  here  invaluable 
to  the  tibia,  and  completes  the  closing  of  the  mortise. 
Between  the  two  bones  of  the  ankle,  a  bone  of  the 
foot,  the  name  of  which  I  hope  you  will  not  forget, 
squares  like  a  tenon.  This  bone  is  called  astragalus. 
The  square  ornaments  of  cornices  are  called  astragals, 
so  you  see  we  are  still  on  the  subject  of  architecture. 

The  astragalus  placed  immediately  over  the  mortise 
of  the  tibia,  between  the  walls  of  which  it  is  held  as  if 
by  pincers,  receives  all  the  weight  of  the  body  in  a 
straight  line,  and  transmits  it  to  its  comrade  below, 
called  the  calcaneum  ;  or,  to  give  you  the  translation, 
the  heel  bone. 

These  two  bones  form  the  foundation  which  supports 
the  entire  edifice,  and  you  will  not  be  astonished  to 
learn,  that  their  size  is  considerably  greater  than  that 
of  the  little  bones  of  the  carpus,  the  corresponding 


116  THE  ARMS  AND  LEGS. 

bones  in  the  hand.  We  now  come  to  what  we  may  call 
the  carpus  of  the  foot ;  but  the  name  of  the  bones 
changes  as  well  as  their  dimensions,  and  the  carpus 
takes  the  name  tarsus  when  applied  to  the  foot. 

The  tarsus  also  has  its  two  rows  of  bones  closely 
packed  together,  but  they  do  not  go  in  sets  of  four,  as 
at  the  wrist.  The  first  row  is  composed  of  the  astra- 
galus and  calcaneum,  which  two  are  certainly  equal  to 
the  four  carpal.  The  second  row  comprises  five  small 
bones,  the  names  of  which  I  shall  not  trouble  you  with. 
Next  come  the  small  columns  of  metatarsals,  a  faithful 
reproduction  of  the  metacarpals,  with  the  same  number 
of  phalanges  as  in  the  fingers  ;  two  for  the  large  toe, 
and  three  for  each  of  the  others.  But  here  the  resem- 
blance ceases.  First  there  is  this  great  difference,  which 
you  must  be  aware  of :  the  great  toe  is  placed  on  the 
same  line  as  its  small  companions,  with  whom  it  cannot 
come  in  contact.  Next  these  latter,  having  no  work  to 
perform,  their  phalanges,  by  virtue  of  that  law  that 
metes  out  food  according  to  labor  done,  are  so  ill-fed 
that  they  are  almost  reduced  to  nothing.  The  blood 
reserves  all  its  nourishment  for  the  first  row  of  the 
tarsus,  which  has  so  great  a  weight  to  bear ;  and  for 
this  reason  :  When  speaking  to  you  at  the  beginning  of 
this  chapter  about  the  foot  of  the  painter  born  without 
arms,  where  the  duties  of  the  arms  had  to  be  performed 
by  the  legs,  I  said  that  there  were  two  bones  in  his  feet 
very  different  in  volume  to  those  we  find  in  the  feet  of 
other  men.  These  two  bones  you  now  see  were  the 
astragalus  and  the  calcaneum.  Not  put  to  any  work, 
as  they  had  not  the  weight  of  the  body  to  support,  the 
blood  in  all  probability  had  given  them  half  rations,  in 
order  to  benefit  the  toes  which  worked  the  brush,  and 
which,  by  dint  of  use,  were  positively  elongated. 


THE   ARMS   AND   LEGS.  117 

I  hope  you  will  not  be  offended  at  the  advice  I  am 
going  to  give  you.  It  is  nice  to  have  a  neat  little  foot, 
and  if  every  one  went  barefoot,  the  foot,  like  the  nose, 
would  quietly  keep  the  shape  given  it  by  nature.  Un- 
happily shoes  are  worn,  so  the  shoe  and  not  the  foot  is 
visible.  The  object  then  is  to  have  a  pretty  little  shoe ; 
whence  it  follows  that  in  choosing  the  envelope,  we  do 
not  pay  sufficient  attention  to  what  we  are  going  to  put 
within  it.  When  the  bones  arc  pretty  well  developed, 
this  little  suffering  we  inflict  on  ourselves  passes  off 
when  we  get  our  feet  into  slippers.  You  will  remember 
however,  what  I  said  about  the  cartilaginous  condition 
of  the  bones  in  early  youth,  and  how  they  do  not  be- 
come solid  until  later  in  life.  The  Chinese  take  advan- 
tage of  this  soft  state  of  the  bones  to  such'  an  extent 
that  they  render  the  women  incapable  of  walking.  They 
actually  envelop  the  feet  of  their  infant  female  children 
in  close-fitting  iron  boots,  pushing  back  the  still  soft 
phalanges  of  the  toes  and  metatarsus  upon  the  tarsus, 
converting  them  into  shrivelled  stumps  which  are  any- 
thing but  pretty,  at  least  to  our  taste.  You  must  think 
of  this  if  you  should  ever  be  tempted  whilst  young  to 
wear  too  tight  shoes.  Never  expose  yourself  for  the 
sake  of  having  the  leather  and  prunella  covering  ad- 
mired, to  deform  and  destroy  what  it  contains.  In 
riches,  in  mind,  in  probity,  in  beauty,  in  all  and  every- 
thing, to  be  and  to  appear  to  be,  are  two  rivals,  which 
dispute  the  mastery  in  this  world,  and  people  are  best 
judged  according  to  the  choice  they  make  between 
the  two. 

One  last  observation  on  the  shape  of  the  foot  before 
bidding  adieu  to  the  skeleton,  whose  name  will,  I  imagine 
no  longer  awaken  in  you  that  disagreeable  feeling  of 
terror  usual  in  ignorant  people. 


118  THE   ARMS  AND   LEGS. 

The  calcaneum  comes  very  low  down  behind,  where 
it  touches  the  ground  ;  it  then  ascends  to  the  height  of 
the  second  row  of  bones,  which  itself  is  on  an  incline. 
The  whole  forms  a  species  of  arch,  the  summit  of  which 
is  the  highest  part  of  the  instep,  just  where  the  phalanges 
of  the  metatarsus  begin.  From  this  point  the  phalanges 
continue,  the  arch  falling  with  a  gentle  slope  toward 
the  toes,  and  at  this  point  of  junction  of  the  two,  that 
is,  where  the  phalanges  and  toes  meet,  a  well-formed  foot 
again  touches  the  ground.  The  nerves,  muscles,  and 
blood-vessels  of  the  sole  of  the  foot  are  sheltered  in  the 
hollow  of  this  arch ;  they  thus  escape  the  pressure  of 
the  weight  of  the  body,  a  great  advantage  in  long 
marches,  where  pressure  might  after  a  time  irritate 
them  and  produce  inflammation. 

For  this  reason  conscripts  whose  feet  are  too  flat  are 
refused  by  the  military  board  of  examination  ;  it  is  as- 
sumed they  cannot  undergo  the  fatigues  of  a  long  march. 
The  supposition  is  a  reasonable  one,  but  must  not  always 
be  taken  for  granted,  for  I  know  a  capital  walker,  who, 
in  consequence  of  this  defect,  would  never  have  been 
accepted  in  any  regiment.  Nature  has  resources  un- 
known to  us,  and  thanks  to  them,  she  is  often  enabled  to 
counteract  the  apparent  imperfections  of  her  work. 

For  a  stronger  reason  would  I  distrust  the  old  saying 
that  a  flat  foot  betokens  a  dull  mind  ;  it  would,  indeed, 
be  hard  on  some  good  people  always  to  believe  this  to 
be  the  case.  What  a  thing  it  would  be  if  moral  worth 
were  measured  by  this  rule.  A  great  man's  character 
would  be  at  the  mercy  of  his  shoemaker ! 

But  here  let  us  take  leave  of  this  question,  and  pro- 
ceed to  discuss  the  muscles,  which  have  long  been  await- 
ing their  turn. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE   MUSCLES. 

WHEN  the  shell  of  a  house  is  completed  the  best  half 
of  the  work  is  done ;  ask  any  mason  and  he  will  tell 
you  that  I  am  right.  Do  not  regret  the  time  we  have 
spent  over  ours,  nor  any  weariness  it  may  have  caused 
you,  for,  between  ourselves,  I  could  never  have  under- 
taken, during  this  somewhat  monotonous  journey  through 
the  human  structure,  to  make  it  always  amusing  to  you. 
I  have  done  what  I  could  to  render  it  so,  and  have  been 
reproached  with  taking  too  much  trouble  to  make  the 
road  an  easy  one,  under  the  belief  that  to  study  how  to 
impart  knowledge  by  saving  children  all  possible  trouble 
and  hard  work  is  calculated  to  do  them  more  harm  than 
good.  In  this  my  severe  critic  is  right,  I  will  not  deny 
it,  but  even  that  need  not  affect  me  much.  Whatever 
my  efforts  may  have  been,  sufficient  will  always  remain 
for  you  to  do  in  order  thoroughly  to  understand  what  I 
have  undertaken  to  explain. 

The  best  way  I  know  of  to  make  a  child  use  its  brain 
in  good  earnest,  is  to  interest  it ;  in  other  words,  to 
amuse  it.  The  most  fatal  enemy  to  mental  exertion  is 
ennui,  for  the  simple  reason  that  it  benumbs  the  faculties 
of  the  mind.  Certainly  it  is  no  fault  of  mine  if  I  have 
not  been  more  amusing  while  giving  you  this  intermin- 
able history  of  the  bones,  seeing  that  the  ghastly  com- 
panion which  I  selected  to  render  the  subject  more  in- 
telligible made  me  grave  in  spite  of  myself.  There  is 

(119) 


120  THE   MUSCLES. 

not  much  in  a  skeleton  to  induce  mirth  ;  calmly  as  one 
may  admire  the  very  wonderful  structure  of  the  human 
frame,  our  natural  dislike  to  the  presence  of  death  is  apt 
to  awe  the  strongest  of  us. 

But  here,  with  muscles  we  re-enter  on  life,  and  so  we 
can  prattle  at  our  ease. 

The  muscles  form  a  large  battalion  in  the  army  of  the 
artisans  of  the  stomach.  They  compose  what  is  called 
the  flesh,  that  is  to  say,  the  principal  part  of  the  body, 
and  their  business  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  common  peo- 
ple, who  form  the  chief  part  of  the  social  body.  They 
undertake  the  heavy  work.  In  the  great  buisness  of 
walking,  which  the  brain  directs,  they  are  the  laborers, 
and  the  bones  are  only  tools  by  means  of  which  the  mus- 
cles execute  their  work. 

Hence  the  particular  name  of  the  locomotive  given  to 
each  of  these  two  divisions.  Do  not  be  alarmed  at  this 
expression,  it  simply  means  that  which  serves  to  move 
about.  The  railway  locomotives  will  suffice,  if  necessary, 
to  explain  this  to  you. 

I  suppose  you  know  enough  of  grammar  to  know  the 
difference  between  an  active  and  a  passive  verb.  From  this 
you  will  at  once  understand  why  our  muscles,  our  laborers, 
are  called  active  locomotive,  and  our  bones,  their  tools, 
passive  locomotive.  The  muscle  moves  the  bone ;  the 
bone  is  moved  by  the  muscle.  It  is  easy  to  ascertain 
when  we  walk  which  of  the  two  bodies  lays  claim  to 
the  honor  of  the  action. 

We  were  just  now  speaking  of  the  social  body,  I  will 
therefore  point  out  to  you  that  it  also  has  a  double 
locomotive  apparatus^  the  active  and  the  passive  ;  the 
courageous  elite  which  gives  the  impulse,  the  inert  mass 
which  receives  it.  Without  inviting  you  later  in  life  to 
join  in  political  battles,  which  God  forbid,  let  me  advise 


THE   MUSCLES.  121 

you  in  passing  to  be  prepared  before-hand  to  take  your 
stand  among  the  more  honorable,  that  is  the  elite,  of 
these  two  bodies. 

You  may  shed  a  wholesome  influence  around  you 
without  making  a  great  noise.  Look  at  the  muscles, 
does  any  one  hear  them?  What  progress,  apparently 
impossible,  might  be  accomplished  without  any  visible 
effort  were  women  only  to  play  the  part  of  muscles,  and 
quietly  help  the  world  in  its  onward  course  ! 

Forgive  me,,  my  child,  if  I  have  forgotten  what  you  are, 
by  allowing  myself  to  be  carried  away  with  the  thought 
of  what  you  may  one  day  become.  Meanwhile,  as  you 
are  learning  to  imitate  the  conduct  of  the  muscles  and 
act  as  they  do,  let  us  quietly  consider  what  a  muscle 
really  is  and  what  it  does. 

T  cannot  do  better  than  compare  a  muscle  to  a  quantity 
of  small  skeins  of  thread  compressed  into  packets,  which 
are  always  subdividing  until  they  become  elementary 
threads,  a  thousand  times  finer  than  the  finest  hair  on 
your  head.  Seen  through  a  microscope,  these  threads, 
or  rather  fibres,  to  give  them  their  proper  name,  look 
like  a  kind  of  rosary,  the  beads  of  which,  placed  at  cer- 
tain distances  from  one  another,  alternately  shorten  or 
lengthen  the  fibre,  according  as  they  approach  each  other 
or  retain  their  original  position. 

Here,  then  we  have  a  very  simple  piece  of  mechanism, 
have  we  not  ?  nevertheless  it  suffices  for  every  move- 
ment in  the  animal  world,  from  the  crawling  of  a  worm  to 
the  leap  of  a  race-horse,  including  even  the  gambols  of 
young  ladies  of  twelve  years  of  age,  during  their  hours 
of  recreation.  It  is  simply  a  contraction  of  the  mus- 
cular fibre  which  lengthens  out  to  contract  again,  and  as 
it  contracts  draws  to  it  what  has  to  be-  displaced.  Can 
you  imagine  anything  more  simple  ? 
6 


122  THE   MUSCLES. 

What  is  less  easy  to  imagine  is  the  why  and  the  where- 
fore of  this  happy  power  of  contraction,  without  which 
man  and  beast  would  be  fixed  to  one  spot,  as  if  they  were 
inert  or  inorganic  bodies. 

The  why  and  the  wherefore,  do  you  ask?  What  a 
question !  I  have  only  to  will  it,  and  my  arms  and  legs 
move  of  themselves.  See  whether  it  is  not  so  ;  it  was 
my  will  that  directed  it. 

Assuredly,  my  little  princess,  things  being  as  they  are, 
you  have  but  to  will  and  you  are  obeyed.  It  is  necessary, 
however,  that  you  should  know  that  if  any  accident  be- 
fall certain  nerves  which  proceed  from  the  vertebral  col- 
umn on  either  side  of  the  last  vertebra  of  the  neck,  you 
may  order  your  arms  to  move  as  much  as  you  like,  they 
will  pay  no  attention  to  the  command,  and  you  will 
then  see  whether  your  will  manages  all.  Know  also,  that 
if  without  touching  your  nerves  some  savant  more  curious 
than  his  fellows  who  are  in  the  habit  of  experimenting  on 
animals,  should  take  it  into  his  head,  and  have  the  power, 
to  fill  the  arteries  of  your  legs  with  water,  no  further 
orders  you  might  give  to  the  muscles  in  that  part  would 
be  listened  to  ;  your  will  would  be  as  nothing  to  them. 
By  and  by,  when  we  come  to  the  nerves,  I  shall  enlarge 
on  that  mysterious  power  which  slumbers  in  the  muscles, 
ever  ready  to  awaken  at  the  command  of  the  brain,  when 
its  auxiliaries  are  at  their  post,  and  which,  at  a  given 
moment,  brings  together  the  beads  of  the  muscular  rosary, 
and  then  suddenly  disappearing  leaves  them  to  them- 
selves. At  present  it  suffices  to  mention  the  fact,  another 
time  I  will  explain  it  as  best  I  can. 

Thus  at  the  slightest  movement  agreeably  to  your  wishes, 
you  create  a  commotion  along  the  whole  line  among  a 
myriad  of  little  beings,  each  of  which  suddenly  embraces 
its  neighbor.  It  is  only  in  this  way  that  you  reign  queen 


THE   MUSCLES.  123 

in  the  kingdom  of  muscles,  in  compelling  your  subjects 
to  love  each  other,  and  for  my  part,  if  I  had  to  choose,  I 
would  desire  no  other  royalty. 

However,  upon  closer  examination,  this  style  of  gov- 
erning is  somewhat  inconvenient  as  regards  action.  The 
muscle  acting  only  upon  the  part  it  is  deputed  to 
put  in  motion,  by  drawing  its  little  friends  closer  to 
each  other  gives  a  power,  acting  in  one  direction — viz. , 
that  implied  in  shortening  of  the  muscle,  or  contraction, 
which  is  the  proper  expression.  You  will  now  be  puzzled 
to  explain  how  accordion  players  can  conform  to  the 
programme  of  their  music.  How  can  they  both  pull  and 
push,  the  one  action  being  the  reverse  of  the  other,  if  the 
muscles  are  only  capable  of  contraction  ?  I  must  relieve 
you  of  your  perplexity,  indeed  I  am  obliged  to  do  so,  for 
this  is  just  a  case  in  point  with  the  peculiar  arrangement 
found  in  the  entire  muscular  kingdom. 

Europeans  when  they  arrive  in  India,  are  very  much 
put  about  unless  they  be  disposed  to  wait  upon  them- 
selves. In  our  country  a  small  family  may  manage  very 
well  with  one  servant,  but  in  India,  each  servant  has  his 
own  department,  one  cooks,  another  sweeps,  another 
brushes  clothes,  a  fourth  washes  dishes,  and  so  on  ;  if  the 
master  smokes,  he  requires  a  servant  to  carry  his  pipe, 
and  on  no  account  would  he  carry  anything  else. 

This  is  exactly  the  case  with  the  muscles  ;  there  is  no 
occasion  to  inquire  how  they  would  succeed  with  double 
work ;  they  are  only  upper  servants  undertaking  but  one 
duty.  Do  you  wish  to  bend  your  leg?  a  special  muscle 
at  once  draws  the  tibia  toward  it  and  carries  it  backward. 
Do  you  wish  to  straighten  your  leg?  another  muscle 
has  immediate  orders  to  bring  the  tibia  to  the  front  by 
drawing  it  toward  itself.  The  process  is  exactly  the 
same  only  applied  in  a  contrary  direction. 


124  THE  MUSCLES. 

Imagine  me  standing  in  front  of  you,  face  to  face,  with 
some  one  else  at  your  back,  each  of  us  laying  a  hand  on 
your  shoulder.  I  oblige  you  to  bend  forward,  by  pulling 
you  toward  me,  but  I  need  not  push  you  back  to  your  place 
to  make  you  stand  erect,  it  devolves  upon  the  other 
hand  to  accomplish  this  by  pulling  you  toward  it.  Our 
bones  then  are  placed  between  rival  powers,  antagonists, 
according  to  the  term  here  given,  which  oblige  them  to 
move  each  in  its  turn.  According  to  this  arrangement, 
when  one  muscle  works,  another  rests  ;  a  fortunate 
circumstance  for  us,  as  they  are  short-winded  workmen, 
and  require  to  rest  every  moment.  If  the  same  muscles 
were  constantly  in  motion  whilst  we  are  walking,  it 
would  be  impossible  to  take  fifty  steps  in  succession. 
Without  entering  upon  a  series  of  explanations,  I  will 
only  ask  you  to  hold  your  leg  firmly  extended  six  inches 
from  the  ground.  You  can  sit  down  if  you  desire  to  be 
more  at  your  ease.  This  does  not  appear  difficult,  but 
as  in  this  posture  the  muscles  cannot  relieve  one 
another,  I  am  quite  sure  that  in  less  than  five  minutes 
you  will  be  tired  enough. 

These  are  the  extensors  of  the  leg  mentioned  during 
our  study  of  the  patella,  and  they  will  beg  to  be  spared 
the  little  experiment  I  have  just  proposed  to  you.  Their 
duty  sufficiently  explains  their  name,  which  is  to  stretch 
or  extend  the  leg. 

Their  antagonists  enabling  it  to  bend  are  called  flexors, 
and  to  these  muscles  we  are  in  reality  indebted  for  the 
power  of  kneeling. 

The  muscles  are  classed  in  categories  named  in  accord- 
ance with  their  functions.  There  are,  for  instance,  the 
levators,  which  raise  ;  the  depressors,  which  draw  down- 
ward, two  antagonistic  classes,  as  you  can  easily 
imagine  ;  the  rotators,  (rota,  a  wheel,)  which  turn  ;  the 


THE   MUSCLES.  125 

abductors, (ducere  ab>)  to  move  from ;  the  adductor,  (ducere 
ad,)  to  draw  inward,  and  others  besides ;  and  to  each  in- 
dividual muscle  of  each  different  class  a  special  name  has 
been  given.  There  are  extensors,  flexors,  etc.,  on  all 
sides,  so  it  was  necessary  to  name  them  in  order  to  re- 
cognise them.  I  leave  you  -to  think  what  would  become 
of  us  if  we  were  to  review  the  muscles  as  we  did  the 
bones. 

We  must  follow  the  example  of  visitors  to  a  ship- 
building yard,  who  inform  themselves  minutely  of  what- 
ever concerns  the  tools,  without  inquiring  the  names  of 
the  workmen.  The  individual  on  whom  the  duty  of  ex- 
plaining the  various  departments  devolves  simply  ob- 
serves to  the  visitors,  "  These  are  the  fitters,"  "  those  the 
turners,"  etc.,  etc.,  particularising  the  work  assigned  to 
the  men,  irrespective  of  their  being  called  James,  Peter, 
John,  etc.,  information  only  regarding  the  work  done  by 
them  being  of  service  to  the  inquirers. 

You  will  readily  agree  it  was  not  wrong  in  this  in- 
stance to  think  less  of  the  men  than  of  the  instruments 
they  were  using.  In  the  same  way,  then,  do  not  think 
because  I  do  not  enter  into  details  as  to  the  names  of  the 
different  muscles,  that  they  rank  below  the  bones.  They 
are  organs  of  a  very  superior  order,  but  are  so  numerous, 
what  else  can  I  do  ?  Besides,  a  workman's  history  is  in 
his  work,  so  interesting  a  one  that  he  seeks  no*  other. 
With  those  persons  who  do  nothing,  it  is  necessary  to 
talk  about  themselves,  seeing  there  is  nothing  else  to 
talk  about. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

THE  MUSCLES— (Continued.) 

THERE  are  some  people  so  exclusive  that  they  are 
averse  to  anything  like  contact  with  those  in  the  lower 
ranks  of  life.  When  they  require  the  services  of  the 
latter,  they  give  their  orders  through  the  medium  of 
other  parties,  who,  though  belonging  to  the  lower  orders 
of  society,  manage  to  insinuate  themselves  into  the  fash- 
ionable world,  which  they  govern  by  transacting  its 
affairs. 

The  muscles  belong  to  this  class  of  exclusives.  Be- 
tween their  restless  flesh  and  the  inert  phosphate  of 
the  bones,  the  bond  of  connexion  is  established  through 
the  medium  of  a  third  class  of  agents,  who  fraternise  on 
the  one  hand  with  the  bony  masses,  and  on  the  other  slip 
in  among  the  bands  of  muscular  fibres,  of  which  they  are 
at  once  the  protectors  and  the  agents. 

These  intermediate  agents  are  the  fibrous  organs. 

To  each  muscular  fibre  a  fibre  of  an  inferior  kind  is 
attached,  which  is  incapable  either  of  contraction  or 
extension,  and  which,  intermingling  with  the  neighbor- 
ing fibres  of  the  same  class,  forms  a  kind  of  tough  web, 
enveloping  the  interior  divisions  of  the  muscle,  as  well 
as  the  muscle  itself.  This  web  is  called  the  aponeurosis. 
Neuron  is  the  Greek  for  nerve.  This  word  is  still  pre- 
served in  the  Greek,  I  don't  know  why ;  it  remains  there 
as  the  representative  of  an  old  error  at  which  we  have 
already  laughed  once. 
(126) 


THE   MXJSCLES.  127 

You  will  not  have  forgotten  the  little  dictionary  I  told 
you  of  the  other  day,  which  defined  tirant  as  yellow  nerve. 
It  was  only  the  echo  of  the  belief  which  catalogued,  once 
upon  a  time,  all  the  fibrous  organs  in  the  category  of 
nerves,  and  it  is,  thanks  to  this  belief,  now  discredited, 
that  we  still  give  the  name  of  nerves  of  beef  to  the  tresses 
which  are  found  among  the  tendons  of  beef. 

The  aponeuroses,  though  they  have  nothing  in  com- 
mon with  the  nerves,  are  nevertheless  exceedingly  use- 
ful to  the  muscles,  whose  fibres  they  keep  in  their  proper 
places.  Without  these  strict  guardians,  the  little  bun- 
dles of  fibres  of  which  the  muscle  is  formed  would  be- 
come deranged  at  each  contraction,  just  as  the  threads 
of  a  skein  would  which  you  might  try  to  wind  without 
its  being  held.  But  profit  does  not  always  result  from 
being  too  well  guarded.  A  government  in  which  the 
power  is  too  absolute  becomes  wearisome  to  a  people 
fired  by  the  love  of  liberty ;  and  so  the  aponeuroses, 
which  never  yield,  cruelly  oppress  the  muscles  when  the 
latter  become  inflamed. 

Instances  of  this  kind  are  often  met  with  in  tern 
porary  hospitals  organised  for  the  wounded  after  an 
engagement.  Nature  only  knows  one  way  of  repairing 
the  injury  man  does  to  his  fellow  :  this  is  by  letting  the 
blood  flow  in  quantity  through  the  severed  flesh  and 
gun-shot  wounds,  and  allowing  it  to  accumulate  in  the 
injured  parts.  This  valuable  steward,  the  blood,  has 
plenty  to  do  at  these  times.  To  rebuild  the  breaches, 
to  clear  away  the  materials  so  brutally  destroyed,  to 
cause  to  re-enter  into  the  torrent  of  the  circulation,  as 
we  say,  the  liquids  which,  escaping  from  their  broken 
or  ruptured  canals,  have  spread  themselves  among  the 
tissues  where  they  cause  irritation — all  this  is  no  ordi- 
nary work,  and  whilst  it  lasts  requires  the  repairing 


128  THE  MUSCLES. 

agent  to  bring  all  his  powers  to  bear  in  the  theatre  of 
action.  The  muscle  gorged  with  blood  endeavors  to 
swell,  but  the  inflexible  aponeurosis  imprisons  it  on  all 
sides,  and  stops  it  in  its  attempt  It  is  the  same  as  with 
these  little  feet  of  which  we  spoke,  when  compressed 
into  a  still  smaller  shoe,  only  in  the  former  case  the 
poor  wounded  man's  sufferings  soon  become  so  excruciat- 
ing that  relief  can  only  be  obtained  by  cutting  the  web. 
This  is  called  incising  or  unbridling  a  wound.  In  fact, 
the  only  remedy  is  to  slacken  the  rein  for  the  fiery 
muscles,  which  eagerly  cry  out  for  more  space.  The 
alternative  is  rather  violent,  and  astonished  me  the  first 
time  I  saw  it  resorted  to  ;  but  if  such  means  were  not 
had  recourse  to,  gangrene  would  appear  in  the  muscle — 
I  will  explain  why  another  time — and  death  of  the 
entire  body  would  be  the  result  of  the  obstinacy  of  a 
stupid  piece  of  web,  which  could  not  accommodate  itself 
to  circumstances. 

You  must,  however,  hear  both  sides.  This  inflexibility 
of  the  intermedial  fibre,  so  dangerous  in  extreme  cases, 
has  also  its  valuable  properties.  The  fibrous  organ  not 
only  prevents  the  muscle  from  straying,  but  is  further 
commissioned,  and  this  is  its  main  function,  to  compel  it 
to  obey  its  orders.  Now,  if  it  were  elastic,  if  it  could 
elongate  itself  under  the  traction  of  the  muscle,  it  would 
expend  a  considerable  amount  of  its  strength,  which 
would  in  no  way  assist  the  movement,  and  the  bone 
would  but  half  obey  the  injunctions  of  its  lord  and 
master.  The  inexorable  rigidity  of  this  intermediate 
agent  obliges  the  bone  to  yield  in  exact  proportion  to 
the  contraction  of  the  muscle.  So  we  sometimes  find 
troublesome  servants  are  in  the  end  the  most  useful 
to  us. 

Now,  let  us  consider  by  what  authority  this  agent  of 


THE  MUSCLES.  129 

the  muscle  exercises  control  over  this  rude  vassal,  whom 
he  causes  to  march  at  his  bidding. 

You  know  all  about  the  periosteum,  the  membrane 
covering  the  bones,  and  incorporating  itself  with  them 
on  such  good  terms  that,  as  we  have  already  observed, 
it  furnishes  them  with  a  series  of  external  layers  as  fast 
as  the  old  ones  disappear  from  the  interior.  The  perios- 
teum is  also  a  fibrous  organ,  and  so  when  the  fibrous 
organ  of  the  muscle  reaches  the  bone,  it  finds  a  com- 
panion ready  to  bid  it  welcome ;  the  two  unite  their 
fibres  at  the  point  of  attachment,  and  owing  to  this 
union  of  their  servants,  if  I  may  be  excused  the  term, 
muscle  and  bone  are  at  last  connected  in  spite  of  their 
diverse  natures. 

These  attachments  are  effected  in  several  ways.  Some- 
times by  a  web,  an  aponeurosis  lodging  itself  in  its 
entire  breadth  within  a  groove  of  the  bone.  Sometimes 
the  fibres  disperse,  and  fix  themselves  singly  on  the  peri- 
osteum, like  threads  of  velvet  upon  the  woof ;  and  some- 
times they  all  unite  in  one  bundle,  forming  long  cords, 
which  we  already  know,  called  tendons. 

The  muscles  presiding  over  the  chief  movements  of 
the  limbs  are  generally  attached  to  the  aponeuroses 
above,  and  by  tendons  below,  and  I  am  about  to  tell 
you  why. 

I  need  not  explain  to  you,  that  in  order  to  draw  any- 
thing toward  you,  you  must  yourself  have  a  foundation 
to  rest  upon.  The  general  foundation  of  the  body  is 
the  vertebral  column  which  forms  the  centre,  and  the 
different  parts  of  the  members  of  the  body  leaning  one 
against  the  other,  proceeding  from  the  extremities  to- 
ward the  trunk  ;  it  follows  that  the  muscles  moving  the 
hand  are  fixed  to  the  forearm,  those  moving  the  forearm 
are  fixed  to  the  arm,  those  moving  the  arm  are  planted 


130  THE  MUSCLES. 

in  the  shoulder-bone.  It  is  quite  natural,  then,  that  the 
attachments  should  become  larger  at  the  points  where 
they  rest,  for  the  larger  the  foundation  is,  the  more 
solid  it  naturally  becomes. 

"Watch  your  brother  at  his  games,  see  how  he  exerts 
his  strength  in  drawing  his  companion  toward  him.  The 
boy  resists  with  all  his  might.  Your  brother  separates 
his  legs  to  give  him  a  firmer  purchase,  presses  his  heels 
into  the  ground  as  he  throws  himself  back.  The  legs 
support  the  trunk,  which  maintains  the  arms,  and  these 
latter  stretch  themselves  forward  to  their  full  extent, 
drawing  toward  the  trunk  the  boy  to  whom  they,  the 
arms,  are  attached,  by  the  hands.  In  this  position  your 
brother's  body  can  give  you  an  exact  idea  of  what  takes 
place  in  each  of  his  muscles.  Imagine  the  trunk  to  be 
a  muscle,  the  extended  legs  will  represent  the  expansion 
of  the  aponeurosis  which  fixes  the  muscle  to  its  basis, 
and  the  arms  will  be  the  tendons  by  means  of  which  it 
draws  the  bone  placed  under  its  control  to  itself.  But  all 
this  will  fail  to  give  you  a  clear  insight  into  the  world 
of  muscles.  To  know  a  country  we  must  have  visited 
it.  I  am  going  to  show  you  this  one,  by  fully  describ- 
ing a  muscle  with  everything  belonging  to  it.  You  can 
understand  I  do  not  mean  to  choose  the  first  comer,  by 
way  of  doing  him  honor.  That  which  I  select  is  one  of 
the  most  active  of  the  artisans  of  your  stomach,  working 
for  you  each  time  your  hand  approaches  your  mouth, 
and  is  called  the  flexor  of  the  radius  ;  a  muscle  whose 
name  is  rather  popular,  if  not  among  young  ladies, 
at  least  among  men  who  have  any  pretensions  to  strength, 
— it  is  called  the  biceps. 


CHAPTER  XY. 

THE  MUSCLES — (Continued.) 

BICEPS  in  Latin  means  with  two  heads  ;  the  term  is 
applied  to  a  mountain  whose  summit  is  fork-shaped. 
The  famous  Mount  Parnassus,  sacred  to  Apollo  and  the 
Muses,  is  so  shaped.  There  is  a  verse  somewhere,  either 
in  Horace  or  Ovid,  that  occurs  to  my  recollection,  in 
which  it  is  styled  "  the  two-headed  mountain."  It  is  no 
small  honor  that  the  flexor  of  the  radius  should  bear 
the  name  of  so  celebrated  a  mountain. 

Our  biceps  is  also  fork-shaped  at  its  summit,  and 
hence  its  name  ;  its  position  is  at  the  inner  side  of  the 
arm,  that  part  touching  your  chest  when  you  press  your 
elbow  against  your  body,  but  its  entire  course  is  difficult 
to  trace  with  the  finger. 

How  astonished  any  one  is  upon  going  for  the  first 
time  on  board  ship,  at  the  sailors  being  able  to  dis- 
tinguish the  different  parts  of  the  rigging  among  the 
multitude  of  cords  interlaced  in  all  directions,  each  of 
which  corresponds  to  a  special  movement  of  the  yards 
and  sails. 

Suppose  our  muscles  were  unable  at  the  first  sum- 
mons from  the  will  to  act  of  themselves,  if,  like  the 
sailors,  we  had  to  select  the  rope  corresponding  to  each 
movement  we  wish  to  execute,  how  very  complicated 
the  work  would  be !  Not  only  are  our  muscles  inter- 
laced like  the  cords  of  a  ship,  but  their  fibres  become  so 

(131) 


132  THE  MUSCLES. 

entangled  and  amalgamated  that  they  appear  at  certain 
points  to  be  only  one,  while  a  little  farther  on  they  re- 
appear in  an  isolated  shape,  so  that  we  do  not  know  at 
all  times  whether  we  have  to  do  with  two  muscles  or 
only  with  a  single  one. 

This  is  the  case  with  the  biceps. 

Its  neighbor  is  an  adductor  of  the  humerus.  You  re- 
collect the  word  adductor  when  I  enumerated  some  of 
the  muscles  ;  it  signifies  that  which  draws  inward.  This 
adductor,  as.  well  as  the  biceps,  is  planted  on  an  apophy- 
sis  of  the  scapula,  by  means  of  an  aponeurosis  common 
to  both. 

There  is  a  nice  collection  of  scientific  words,  and  I  am 
delighted  to  be  able  to  make  use  of  them  in  addressing 
you.  Certain  it  is  that  the  aponeurosis  in  question  en- 
velops the  two  muscles  at  once  by  means  of  its  prolonga- 
tion, the  fibres  of  which  at  the  outset  are  found  in  close 
contact,  and  seem  to  form  but  one.  Then  this  covering 
divides  right  and  left,  and  the  bundle  of  fibres  belonging 
to  the  biceps  muscle  being  set  at  liberty  goes  off  to  rejoin 
the  body  of  the  muscle,  where  it  disappears  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  upper  third  of  the  humerus. 

I  told  you  the  biceps  has  two  heads.  This  one  of 
which  we  have  just  been  speaking  is  its  first  and  least  im- 
portant one — the  short  head,  as  anatomists  call  it.  The 
other  the  long  head,  descends  from  a  swelling  on  the  upper 
edge  of  the  hollow  in  which  the  head  of  the  humerus  is 
lodged.  It  is  attached  there  by  a  very  long  tendon,  which 
is  distorted  in  a  ligamentous  form  on  the  head  of  the 
humerus,  and  traverses  the  articulation  concealed  in  a 
fold  of  gynovial  membrane,  as  if  in  a  sheath  ;  leaving  its 
synovial  sheath,  the  tendon  becomes 'enlarged,  and  insen- 
sibly changes  into  a  thick  round  muscular  bundle,  it  first 
runs  along  the  side  of  the  short  head,  then  opposes  it,  and 


THE   MUSCLES.  133 

at  last  absorbs  it,  as  the  Rhone  absorbs  the  Saone  at 
Lyons. 

It  is  at  the  point  of  junction  of  these  two  muscles  at 
their  confluence,  if  we  carry  out  the  comparison,  that  the 
muscle  is  the  thickest,  it  gradually  decreases  toward  the 
elbow  joint,  and  as  it  approaches  the  joint,  the  muscle  may 
be  seen  to  degenerate  into  a  tendon,  large  at  first,  then 
very  thin  till  it  appears  lost  in  the  muscular  fibres; 
whence  speedily  disengaging  itself,  it  attaches  itself 
under  the  form  of  a  compact  cord  to  a  tuberosity  of  the 
radius. 

Tuberosity  is  the  correct  word  here,  and  I  make  a 
point  of  using  it,  because  explaining  its  meaning  gives  me 
an  opportunity  of  unfolding  some  of  the  principal  condi- 
tions which  preside  over  the  action  of  the  muscles  on  the 
bones. 

Tuberosity  means  a  small  knob,  hence  the  term  tuber 
applied  to  potatoes  which  are  really  knobs  growing  on 
the  root  of  the  plant.  It  is  not  without  reason  that  the 
lower  tendon  of  the  biceps  attaches  itself  to  the  tuberos- 
ity of  the  radius,  neither  is  it  without  reason  that  the 
upper  tendon  fixes  itself  on  the  little  prominence,  and  its 
fellow  the  aponeurosis  of  the  short  head  on  an  apophysis, 
which  is  a  tuberosity  also  if  you  remember. 

Lay  a  small  plank  on  the  ground  and  nail  a  cord  along 
it,  lie  down  flat  on  the  ground,  place  your  two  feet  against 
the  end  of  the  plank,  try  to  draw  it  toward  you  so  as  to 
exercise  traction  on  the  beam  from  above,  instead  of 
horizontally  ;  in  addition  to  this,  you  may  attach  the 
cord  to  the  top  of  a  peg  planted  in  the  plank,  and  if  you 
employ  these  two  means  at  once,  the  operation  will  no 
longer  be  a  difficult  one. 

You  will  thus  have  accomplished  exactly  what  the 
flexor  of  the  radius  does  when  it  attaches  itself  to  the 


134  THE  MUSCLES. 

ridge  on  the  bone  which  is  its  fulcrum  ;  in  order  to  raise 
it  a  little,  it  fastens  its  cord  to  the  summit  of  the  little 
knob  of  the  radius.  These  various  irregularities  ob- 
servable on  the  surface  of  the  bones — and  which  I  have 
hitherto  passed  unnoticed  lest  I  should  tire  you  with 
details  of  secondary  importance — these  rough  parts  or 
ridges  invariably  serve  as  points  of  attachment  to  the 
muscles  ;  this  is  so  truly  their  use  that  they  are  con- 
stantly found  in  size  proportioned  to  the  strength  of  the 
muscles  which  cling  to  them. 

On  looking  at  the  biceps  of  a  wrestler  whether  tall 
or  short,  you  may  be  sure  the  tuberosity  which  receives 
the  tendon  forms  a  much  larger  projection  on  the  radius 
than  it  does  in  an  individual  of  the  same  size,  whose 
muscles  are  slender  and  without  energy.  In  the  same 
way,  by  the  size  of  the  projection  on  the  bone,  you  may 
judge  of  the  power  of  the  muscle  attached  to  it. 

To  give  you  one  of  the  most  striking  illustrations  of 
this  :  the  anatomist  is  in  a  position  to  state  without 
having  seen  the  animal,  by  simply  examining  a  fragment 
of  its  jaw,  that  it  was  originally  possessed  of  formidable 
muscles,  and  that  it  belonged  to  the  class  carnivora. 

Besides,  the  projections  of  which  we  have  been  speak- 
ing would  be  too  small,  in  many  instances,  to  raise  the 
muscles,  if  the  bone  requiring  to  be  set  in  motion  were 
placed  horizontally  to  that  acting  as  its  fulcrum ;  it  is 
the  story  of  yourself  and  the  plank  I  just  now  proposed. 

Nature  has  provided  for  this  in  another  way.  Here, 
for  instance,  the  humerus  and  radius  are  each  slightly 
curved  inward,  forming  a  kind  of  arch,  the  two  ends  of 
which  do  not  meet  in  a  straight  line.  This  double  curve 
is  also  found  in  the  thigh  and  leg  bones,  but  I  have 
postponed  mentioning  this  peculiarity  until  I  could  tell 
the  reason  of  it. 


THE  MUSCLES.  135 

Here,  my  dear  child,  you  see  how  much  there  is  to  ad- 
mire in  the  study  of  nature,  how  as  you  advance  the  way 
becomes  easier  ;  what  at  one  time  seemed  difficult  grows 
more  intelligible  each  step  you  take.  In  nature  nothing 
is  left  to  chance  ;  no  apparent  caprice  but  is  accounted 
for  in  due  time.  Not  a  molecule  of  matter  has  been 
placed  without  an  intelligent  design  ;  even  when  she 
appears,' as  in  the  case  of  the  sesamoids,  to  have  reserved 
to  herself  the  right  of  indulging  her  fancy,  there  is  an 
object  in  view.  These  mysterious  formations  on  the 
tendons  aid  them  in  their  way  in  exercising  traction  on 
the  bones,  in  raising  the  fibres  of  these  tendons  above 
the  horizontal  line.  The  sesamoid  is  to  the  tendon  what 
the  peg  is  to  the  plank. 

I  could  not  have  explained  all  this  to  you  before  tell- 
ing you  of  the  facts  to  which  they  refer.  What  a  pity 
we  do  not  know  everything ;  how  clear-sighted  we 
should  then  be ! 

To  return  to  the  biceps  ;  I  should  much  like  to 
know  whether  when  I  began  my  description  of  it,  a  very 
natural  thought  suggested  itself  to  your  mind.  We  saw 
two  bundles  of  muscles,  undistinguishable  at  their  source, 
hidden  as  they  were  by  the  aponeuorosis  which  encloses 
them  in  a  single  packet,  yet  each  has  its  particular  des- 
tination, and  it  is  not  the  same  movement  they  are  called 
upon  to  execute.  How  then,  in  the  performance  of  their 
respective  functions,  can  they  avoid  impeding  each 
other's  progress  ? 

The  question  would  be  puzzling  were  it  not  customary 
with  these  bundles  to  work  together,  so  that  the  two 
movements  are  almost  always  performed  by  a  simulta- 
neous contraction.  Let  the  adductor  of  the  humerus  be 
brought  into  play  so  as  to  draw  the  arm  toward  the 
chest,  you  will  see  that,  quite  naturally  and  uninten- 


136  THE  MUSCLES. 

tionally  on  your  part,  the  forearm  will  bend  on  the  arm, 
by  an  instinctive  contraction  of  the  biceps.  If,  however, 
owing  to  any  intervention  of  the  will,  you  raise  your  arm 
up  to  your  chest,  at  the  same  time  keeping  your  forearm 
well  stretched  out,  the  inconvenience  and  stiffness  of  this 
intentional  movement  will  soon  warn  you  that  you  are 
acting  contrary  to  rule.  Again,  try  to  draw  a  rather 
heavy  object  toward  you, — in  turning  your  arm  outward, 
that  is  to  say — by  contracting  the  fibres  of  the  biceps  and 
relaxing  those  of  its  twin,  your  power  will  be  far  less 
than  if  you  were  to  allow  the  two  muscles  to  work  in 
concert,  and  let  the  arm  raise  itself  to  the  chest  whilst 
the  forearm  bends  on  the  arm. 

In  order  to  be  exact,  I  ought  to  mention  that  there  are 
other  muscles  at  the  shoulder  and  upper  part  of  the  chest, 
which  are  attached  to  the  humerus,  and  are  ordinary 
auxiliaries  in  the  various  movements  of  which  I  have 
just  spoken.  The  auxiliaries  assisting  or  refusing  their 
aid,  according  as  these  movements  take  place  or  not,  in 
the  sense  of  their  contractions.  The  muscles  I  have 
represented  as  upper  servants,  willing  only  to  undertake 
one  duty  at  a  time.  Particular  as  they  may  be,  they 
are  no  more  able  than  our  servants  are  to  act  alone. 
Throughout  the  body'they  constantly  require  a  helping 
hand.  There  are  among  them,  *as  in  every  organised 
society,  certain  recognised  mutual  laws,  from  the  ob- 
servance of  "which  they  cannot  escape  without  weakening 
the  general  effort ;  of  this  we  have  an  example  at  every 
step. 

Set  a  strong  man  to  do  some  hard  work  to  which  he 
has  not  been  accustomed,  and  his  strength  will  appear  to 
forsake  him ;  and  he  who  could  follow  a  plough  the  whole 
day  without  fatigue  would,  if  unaccustomed  to  work  with 
the  oar,  become  useless  after  an  hour's  rowing.  The 


THE  MUSCLES.  137 

body,  unaccustomed  to  new  duties  given  it  to  perform, 
cannot  at  first  take  the  position  necessary  to  harmonise 
the  play  of  the  muscles,  which  should  move  in  concert ; 
instead  of  giving  that  mutual  support  in  which  lies  the 
secret  of  their  strength,  they  betray  each  other,  and  even 
at  times  interfere  with  each  other's  action,  and  strength 
is  of  no  avail.  It  is  like  a  team  in  which  each  horse  pulls 
in  a  different  direction  ;  the  strength  of  the  animals  is 
exhausted,  but  the  wagon  stands  still. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  MUSCLES — (Continued.') 

HAVING  selected  the  biceps  as  the  type  in  our  study  of 
the  muscles,  I  shall  refer  to  it  once  more. 

I  know  that  your  eldest  brother  prides  himself  upon 
his  strength,  and  certainly  his  muscles  are  tolerably  firm. 
Feel  his  arm  as  it  hangs  down  by  his  side,  your  fingers 
sink  into  it  without  any  effort ;  but  ask  him  to  double 
his  arm  vigorously,  then  put  your  finger  once  more  upon 
his  biceps,  which  has  now  become  energetically  con- 
tracted in  order  to  draw  the  forearm  toward  him,  and 
you  will  encounter  a  tolerably  hard  body  on  which  your 
finger  makes  no  impression. 

How  do  you  account  for  this  resistance,  which  hither- 
to unfelt  now  suddenly  appears  ? 

This,  my  dear  child,  is  an  example  of  the  power  of 
concord  between  members  of  the  same  body.  Union  is 
strength  ;  such  is  the  case  among  mankind  as  well  as 
elsewhere.  So  long  as  your  brother's  arm  hung  quietly 
at  his  side  the  biceps  was  relaxed,  the  beads  of  the  mil 
lions  of  little  rosaries  of  which  it  is  composed,  instead 
of  being  attracted  toward  each  other,  were  floating  about 
so  that  you  could  easily  displace  them  with  your  finger. 
A.t  your  request  a  mysterious  act  of  volition  brought  a 
power  of  attraction  into  play,  which  suddenly  affected 
all  these  unconcerned  beads,  precipitating  them  against 
each  other,  and,  so  long  as  this  power  lasts,  they  deter- 
(138) 


THE  MUSCLES.  139 

minedly  oppose  every  attempt  to  displace  them ;  a  dis- 
seminated powerless  crowd  of  particles  suddenly  gathers 
itself  into  a  compact  and  united  group,  presenting  a 
mass  not  easily  overcome.  You  never  for  a  moment  ima- 
gine that  nations  could  derive  a  lesson  from  this  biceps 
muscle,  whose  resisting  power  disappears  as  soon  as  the 
mutual  attraction  of  the  muscular  atoms  vanishes  ;  but 
we  are  verging  on  politics  with  our  biceps,  and  I  may 
soon  have  to  ask,  Where  are  politics  to  end  ? 

To  return  to  the  history  of  the  human  body,  it  is 
desirable  you  should  know  that  this  sudden  hardness  of 
the  muscle,  when  it  is  contracted,  has  incomparably  more 
important  duties  to  perform  than  opposing  the  pressure 
of  the  finger.  It  is  an  invaluable  safeguard  to  our  joints, 
and  what  is  of  still  more  importance  to  us,  it  prevents 
our  mutilating  ourselves  upon  every  little  exertion. 

The  ligaments  surrounding  our  joints  are  very  strong, 
nevertheless  they  would  not  always  suffice  to  retain  the 
bones  in  their  respective  places  if  the  muscles,  stiffening 
with  every  movement,  did  not  second  them,  and  form,  as 
it  were,  another  line  of  defence.  I  spoke  to  you  of  this 
during  our  study  of  the  shoulder,  when  I  explained  that 
the  articular  capsule  allows  so  much  liberty  to  the  head 
of  the  humerus  that,  but  for  the  rigidity  of  the  adjoining 
muscles,  the  bone  would  escape  from  its  socket.  It  is  at 
this  part  that  the  muscles  are  guardians,^>#r  excellence,  of 
order  around  the  articulations,  but  though  not  quite  so 
apparent  elsewhere  they  play  a  part  not  less  important, 
and  when  a  limb  is  paralysed,  that  is  to  say,  when  its 
muscles  have  lost  the  faculty  of  becoming  hard  on  con- 
traction, dislocation  takes  place  much  more  easily. 

Once  let  death,  that  universal  paralysis,  appear,  and 
the  artificial  power  which  each  movement  developed  in  the 
muscle  departs  never  more  to  return,  and  the  muscle  is 


140  THE  MUSCLES. 

thus  compelled  to  deliver  up  tlie  secret  of  its  real 
weakness. 

Detach  a  muscle  from  a  dead  body,  and  to  its  tendon 
fasten  a  weight ;  it  will  not  require  a  very  heavy 
weight  to  tear  the  muscle,  though  the  tendon,  still 
intact,  is  sufficiently  strong  to  support  a  much  greater 
strain.  Now  during  life  the  case  is  the  very  reverse.* 
No  matter  how  violent  the  effort,  a  broken  muscle  is  an 
unheard-of  thing,  and  whilst  muscles  remain  whole,  ten- 
dons are  sometimes  ruptured.  If  people  take  extraor- 
dinary or  sudden  leaps  they  are  liable  to  break  the  ten- 
do-achilles,  which  is  the  tendon  behind  the  foot,  at  the 
extremity  of  the  calcaneum.  If  you  wish  to  know  the 
origin  of  the  name  tendo-achilles,  you  must  take  a  peep 
into  mythology.*)* 

I  think  you  must  now  be  sufficiently  acquainted  with 
your  muscles,  which  assuredly  are  by  no  means  the  least 
useful  of  your  organs,  since  without  their  aid  you  would 
be  unable  to  walk  a  step,  to  write  a  single  word,  or  what 
would  be  still  more  deplorable,  you  would  not  have  the 
power  to  kiss  your  mother. 

You  think,  perhaps,  that  I  am  joking  ;  far  from  it,  I 
am  quite  serious.  Your  lips  are  muscles  which  alter- 
nately stiffen  and  relax,  as  you  close  your  mouth  in 
order  to*  re-open  it,  and  your  mother's  cheeks  which  are 
also  muscles,  have  their  part  to  perform.  If  there  were 


*  "  Fibres  of  muscles  ruptured  are  met  with,  though  rupture  of 
an  entire  muscle  is  certainly  not  known." — Note  of  Translator. 

f  The  goddess  Thetis  dipped  her  son  Achilles  in  the  river  Styx, 
which  rendered  him  invulnerable  in  every  part  except  the  heel,  by 
which  she  held  him.  On  the  capture  of  Troy,  Polyxena  was 
promised  to  Achilles  as  his  wife,  but  while  he  stood  before  the  altar 
of  Apollo,  her  brother  Paris  wounded  him  mortally  with  an  arrow 
in  his  vulnerable  heel,  where  the  tendon  joins  the  calcaneum. 


THE  MUSCLES.  141 

no  muscles  to  act  this  double  part,  you  might  say  fare- 
well to  kisses. 

There  is,  above  all,  a  certain  labial  or  lip  muscle,  that 
takes  a  prominent  part  in  the  various  movements  of  your 
mouth,  about  which  I  must  say  a  word  or  two.  It 
would  be  a  great  pity,  whilst  we  are  on  this  subject,  to 
omit  telling  you  of  this  useful  handmaid  in  our  little 
kingdom. 

You  have  seen  a  young  lady's  work-bag,  and  know 
how  it  opens  and  shuts.  A  runner  is  made  all  around 
near  the  opening  at  the  top,  and  a  double  string  passed 
through.  If  you  wish  to  close  the  bag,  you  draw  the 
two  strings  outward  holding  them  at  the  two  extrem- 
ities, the  runner  gathers  up  into  a  little  packet  of  folds 
with  the  movement,  and  nothing  can  fall  out. 

If  you  wish  to  open  the  bag,  you  take  hold  of  the  two 
sides  of  the  runner,  and  gradually  pull  them  apart,  which 
leaves  the  opening  free.  All  this  you  must  often  have 
seen,  and  you,  no  doubt,  have  been  in  the  habit  of  making 
work-bags  for  yourself,  or  bags  for  your  brother's 
marbles. 

Now  just  imagine  to  yourself  a  runner  that  shuts  and 
opens  of  its  own  free  will  without  the  aid  of  any  string  ; 
such  a  runner  is  the  labial  muscle.  Its  fibres  are  ar- 
ranged in  circles  all  around  the  opening  of  the  mouth, 
and  this  opening  either  shrinks  or  enlarges  according  as 
the  fibres  are  contracted  or  relaxed.  Pucker  up  your 
lips  for  a  moment  and  look  at  yourself  in  the  mirror  ; 
you  will  see  your  lips  are  drawn  together  into  a  heap, 
forming  a  quantity  of  tiny  folds  similar  to  those  caused 
by  the  runners  on  the  bag.  This  is  the  position  they 
assume  of  themselves  when  you  suck  barley-sugar,  or 
when  you  fill  your  glass  too  full  to  lift  it  to  your  mouth, 
and  are  obliged  to  stoop  down  and  drink  from  above. 


142  THE  MUSCLES. 

This  delightful  little  labial,  the  barley-sugar  and  kiss- 
ing-muscles,  does  not,  as  you  see,  act  in  the  same  way  as 
the  muscles  of  which  we  have  hitherto  spoken.  It  has 
no  bones  to  move,  and  its  contractions  have  no  other  ob- 
ject than  to  make  it  close  upon  itself,  and  for  this  reason 
it  can  hardly  be  classed  with  its  companions  in  the  arms 
and  legs.  Placed  like  an  advanced  guard,  at  the  entrance 
of  the  digestive  tube,  this  muscle  claims  some  connexion 
with  it,  and  to  a  certain  extent  participates  in  the  nature 
of  these  internal  muscles,  like  the  stomach,  the  heart,  and 
the  diaphragm,  whose  occupation  is  not  dependent  on 
the  will,  and  which  only  contract  for  their  own  pleasure, 
and  take  care  never  to  over-exert  themselves.  These 
muscles  always  have  fibres  arranged  in  circles,  or  rather 
crossing  each  other  in  every  direction,  whilst  the  fibres 
of  the  other  muscles  are  arranged  in  straight  parallel 
lines  ;  and  though  we  have  not  terminated  our  study  of 
of  them,  I  am  not  sorry  to  have  had  this  opportunity  of 
teaching  you  wherein  the  tissue  of  these  proud  republi- 
cans differs  from  that  of  your  very  humble  subjects. 
The  humble  subjects  are  those  obedient  to  the  will,  as, 
for  example,  those  of  the  arms  and  legs,  etc.,  etc. 

As  to  the  labial  muscle,  if  it  does  not  always  wait  to 
help  you  to  prattle  until  you  have  given  it  positive  orders 
to  do  so,  it  is  nevertheless,  at  your  disposition.  It  is  owing 
to  this  peculiarity,  namely,  its  apparent  independence  of 
the  will,  that  it  is  associated  with  the  little  kingdom,  on 
the  limits  of  which  it  stands.  It  is  a  muscle  of  transition 
which  passes  from  one  country  to  another,  and  the  two 
lives  I  mentioned  to  you  at  the  beginning  of  our  study, 
the  life  of  nutrition  and  the  life  of  relation,  each  lays 
claim  to  it.  Its  position  resembles  that  of  the  tongue, 
which  is  a  muscle  of  nutrition  when  we  swallow,  and  a 
muscle  of  relation  when  we  speak  ;  but  in  the  one  case, 


THE  MUSCLES.  143 

as  well  as  in  the  other,  it  is  under  the  control  of  the  will. 
Of  course  I  do  not  include  those  who  have  never  learned 
to  command  their  tongue  ;  only  that  the  tongue,  pene- 
trating farther  within  the  confines  of  the  interior  of  the 
republic,  resembles  more  closely  what  is  to  be  found 
there.  Fatigue  is  unknown  to  it,  at  least  mine  has 
never  yet  made  any  complaint ;  how  has  it  been  with 
you? 

This  reminds  me  that  I  have  still  something  to  say  to 
you  about  the  muscles  before  we  leave  them.  A  short 
time  since  I  called  your  attention  to  that  peculiar  sensi- 
bility of  the  ligaments,  which  allows  them  to  be  pierced, 
cut,  or  burned,  without  crying  out  for  help, — that  is  to 
say,  without  their  awakening  in  us  any  feeling  of  pain, 
yet  which  energetically  protest  immediately  they  are 
pulled  or  twisted.  The  muscles  differ  from  them  in  some 
degree,  and  are  sensible  to  pain  when  they  are  cut.  If 
you  cut  your  hand  with  a  knife,  the  pain  proceeds  less 
from  the  section  of  the  muscles  than  from  the  contact 
with  the  air  inflaming  them  and  impregnating  the 
blood  with  oxygen,  neither  more  nor  less  than  if  it 
had  encountered  the  blood  in  the  lungs.  In  proof  of 
this,  certain  operations  are  performed  in  which  mus- 
cles are  divided  almost  without  causing  pain,  by  means 
of  a  fine  instrument  delicately  introduced  beneath  the 
skin.  Surgeons  call  this  operation  sub-cutaneous  sec- 
tion. 

Nevertheless,  these  brave  attendants  who  transport  us 
where  we  wish  to  go,  are  far  from  being  devoid  of  feel- 
ing. Each  organ  in  its  own  way  gives  us  notice  if  all 
be  not  going  on  smoothly  ;  the  over-exerted  muscles  make 
it  known  by  an  especial  pain,  if  I  may  so  term  it,  by 
fatigue,  and  however  modest  their  demand  may  be  at 
first,  if  their  cry  remains  unheeded,  they  at  length 


144  THE   MUSCLES. 

become  imperious.  A  little  fatigue  is  of  no  consequence, 
whilst  excessive  and  protracted  fatigue  may  become  so 
unbearable  as  to  render  death  a  welcome  release.  In- 
stances are  on  record  of  individuals  having  been  so 
worn  out  on  a  march  that  they  have  chosen  to  lie  down 
and  await  death,  rather  than  continue  the  struggle. 

I  hope,  my  dear  little  girl,  that  you  may  never  expe- 
rience a  fatigue  from  which  death  would  be  a  release. 
Yet  though  we  be  not  exposed  to  excessive  lassitude,  we 
are  continually  liable  to  experience  fatigue;  let  me, 
therefore,  give  you  some  advice  on  this  subject. 

Do  you  recollect  that  walk  in  the  wood  a  few  days 
ago,  when  for  a  short  time  you  had  lost  yourself,  instead 
of  walking  you  dragged  your  body  along,  making  all 
kinds  of  dreadful  •  lamentations.  No  sooner  had  you 
found  the  right  track,  and  caught  sight  of  the  house, 
than  you  jumped  for  joy,  your  fatigue  vanished,  and  by  the 
time  you  reached  the  garden-gate  you  were  ready  to  set 
off  running.  Here,  it  strikes  me,  is  a  useful  lesson  for. 
you.  Muscles  are  like  naughty  children,  who  cease  cry- 
ing when  they  see  you  take  no  notice  of  them.  The 
more  you  sympathise  in,  their  little  annoyances,  the  more 
compassion  you  show  for  any  little  accident  that  befalls 
them,  the  more  disconsolate  they  become,  and  nothing  so 
increases  real  fatigue  as  to  repeat  constantly,  {tHow 
tired  I  am ! "  Spoiled  children,  who  have  never  been  ex- 
ercised in  the  school  of  obedience,  are  incapable  of  the 
smallest  effort.  On  the  same  principle,  let  me  beg  you 
to  bear  in  mind,  that  if  you  wish  your  muscles  to  obey 
you  later  in  life,  when  you  will  seriously  require  their 
help,  you  must  not  treat  them  now  like  spoiled  chil- 
dren. 

As  regards  fatigue,  I  am  afraid  I  may  have  tired  you 
in  dwelling  so  long  upon  the  bones  and  muscles ;  they 


THE  MUSCLES.  145 

are  at  last  concluded,  thank  God.  I  am  now  about  to 
show  you  how  the  machine  which  we  have  been  so  care- 
fully examining,  piece  by  piece,  works  as  a  whole.  I  have 
been  a  little  tedious  perhaps,  but  the  subject  concerns  you 
very  deeply. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

ATTITUDES. 

I  AM  about  to  speak  to  you  of  the  different  attitudes  ; 
in  other  words,  the  various  positions  the  body  is  capable 
of  assuming  without  any  change  of  place. 

For  some  time  we  have  been  playing  the  part  of  the 
learned  in  inquiring,  as  anatomists  must  do,  into  the 
history  of  the  bones  and  muscles  that  are  concealed  below 
the  skin,  and  which  to  be  properly  understood  must  be 
studied.  We  are  now  competent  to  converse  on  these 
matters  without  calling  in  the  aid  of  books.  Every  per- 
son knows  what  it  is  to  stand  erect,  to  sit,  to  kneel,  to 
lie  down  ;  and  these  are  things  as  familiar  to  you  as 
they  are  to  the  professors  in  the  school  of  medicine  ;  still 
they  deserve  our  attention,  inasmuch  as  the  fact  of  a 
little  girl  being  able  to  sit  erect  is  not  sufficient,  she 
should  also  be  able  to  explain  why  she  does  so.  Your 
little  dog  stands  more  firmly  on  his  paws  than  you  on 
your  legs,  yet  he  is  unable  to  give  any  reason  for  his 
ability  to  do  so.  We  shall  soon  master  the  mystery, 
however,  and  be  greatly  in  advance  of  him  on  this 
subject. 

When  I  say,  soon,  I  perhaps  speak  a  little  at  random. 
Have  you  any  idea  what  turn  our  conversation  must  now 
take  by  way  of  commencement?  Well,  I  am  going 
to  speak  of  that  same  law  which  causes  the  earth  to 
move  round  the  sun,  and  which  ever  since  the  creation 
has  regulated  the  course  of  the  stars  through  the  immen- 
(146) 


ATTITUDES.  147 

sity  of  space.  The  subject  is  no  trifling  one,  you  see,  and 
when  a  little  girl,  by  her  inattention,  gets  a  tumble,  she 
should  be  able,  as  she  rubs  her  injured  nose,  to  console 
herself  with  the  thought,  that  a  power  governing  the 
world  and  exacting  obedience  from  the  stars  is  the 
cause  of  her  fall ;  only  that  the  stars  never  fall,  because 
they  always  do  as  they  are  told  to  do. 

Man  is  very  proud  of  being  the  only  creature  of  the 
animal  kingdom  that  can  maintain  an  erect  posture,  his 
face  raised  heavenward.  This  is  a  legitimate  pride  ;  and 
would  to  God  that  it  accompanied  him  on  all  occasions, 
in  his  actions  as  well  as  in  his  gait.  But  to  all  honors 
penalties  are  attached,  and  those  who  attain  to  the 
dignity  of  walking  erect  require  to  look  out,  and  learn 
how  to  maintain  their  equilibrium  by  attending  cau- 
tiously to  their  centre  of  gravity,  liable  as  it  is,  at  every 
moment,  to  be  impelled  forward  from  the  basis  on  which 
it  rests. 

A  mysterious,  universal,  unfailing  law  exists,  attract- 
ing all  bodies,  large  and  small,  toward  each  other  :  the 
book  lying  there  toward  you,  you  and  it  toward  the 
ground,  the  ground  toward  the  sun,  and  the  sun  toward 
the  unknown  centre  around  which  it  gravitates.  This 
explains  the  origin  of  the  word  to  you,  and  the  idea  it 
recalls.  The  great  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  who  first  ascer- 
tained this  power,  gave  it  the  name  of  gravitation,  from 
the  Latin  word,  gravis,  meaning  heavy  ;  it  is  also  called 
attraction,  weight,  gravity,  according  to  the  different 
aspects  under  which  it  is  considered  ;  but  all  these  terms 
imply  the  same  thing,  viz.,  the  power  inclining  various 
bodies  toward  each  other,  the  love  they  have  one  for  the 
other  thus  affording  a  fine  example  to  lovers. 

If  I  am  able  some  day  to  find  time  to  write  you  a  book 
on  astronomy,  I  shall  have  a  great  deal  to  tell  you 


148  ATTITUDES. 

regarding  this  universal  law  of  attraction,  which  is  the 
fundamental  basis  of  our  astronomical  system.  To-day 
I  shall  content  myself  by  informing  you,  that  the  larger 
the  body  and  the  nearer  it  is,  the  more  considerable  is  its 
power  of  attraction.  Naturally,  when  two  bodies  attract 
a  third,  and  each  one  acts  for  itself,  the  more  powerful 
body  will  be  the  conqueror. 

Now,  on  the  other  hand,  this  book,  this  chair,  that 
cupboard,  that  house,  yon  distant  hill,  each  one  of  these 
bodies  vies  with  the  rest  in  attracting  you  toward  itself ; 
but  as  these  objects  are  as  nothing  compared  with  the 
gigantic  globe  upon  which  we  live,  or  the  earth,  which 
in  its  turn  attracts  us  toward  itself,  so  all  these  minor 
attractions  disappear  before  the  larger  one. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  sun,  the  moon,  and  all  the 
stars  that  are  visible  by  night  in  the  sky,  not  to  mention 
millions  of  invisible  ones  ;  all  these  stars,  in  obedience  to 
the  law  of  attraction,  call  you,  my  dear  child,  toward 
them,  unconscious  though  you  be  of  the  honor  they  con- 
fer upon  you. 

To  take  as  example  one  of  these  bodies  ;  the  sun,  for 
instance,  is  one  million  four  hundred  thousand  times 
larger  than  our  earth,  which  appears  but  an  impercepti- 
ble atom,  when  the  mind  is  engaged  in  contemplating  the 
myriads  of  worlds  in  whose  bosom  we  seem  lost  like  a 
grain  of  dust  amidst  a  heap  of  stones.  But  because  this 
imperceptible  atom  is  under  our  feet,  and  the  sun  a 
distance  of  ninety-five  millions  of  miles  from  our  earth, 
whilst  the  stars  are  too  far  removed  for  me  to  assign 
them  a  place,  all  these  attracting  forces  lose  so  much  of 
their  power  in  travelling  from  the  depths  of  the  sky,  that 
by  the  time  they  reach  us,  the  superior,  because  nearer, 
attraction  of  the  earth  renders  the  more  distant  inap- 
preciable. The  roar  of  a  cannon  is  louder  than  my 


ATTITUDES.  149 

voice,  yet  if  one  were  fired  off  at  a  great  distance  from 
us  whilst  we  are  talking  together,  you  would  not  hear  it, 
and  my  voice  would  easily  drown  its  thunder,  weakened 
by  the  distance  it  would  have  to  travel. 

"With  regard  to  us,  the  earth's  attraction  possesses  no 
rival.  We  are  incontestably  subject  to  its  power,  and 
were  there  not  another  force  within  us  capable  of  strug- 
gling against  the  former,  we  should  remain  fixed  to  the 
ground  like  all  inanimate  objects,  which,  containing  no 
opposing  force  within  themselves,  remain  immovable,  so 
long  as  no  foreign  power  interferes  to  withdraw  them 
from  that  influence  which  is  ever  attracting  them  toward 
the  earth. 

This  is  what  constitutes  the  weight  of  bodies.  We 
measure  it  by  the  amount  of  effort  necessary  to  raise  a 
body  from  off  the  ground ;  in  other  words,  the  effort 
required  by  us  to  overcome  the  attraction  the  ground 
exercises  over  it,  for  it  is  unconscious  of  the  resistance 
which  it  offers  us  ;  a  resistance  which  frequently  calls 
forth  our  indignation.  When  you  stiffen  your  muscles 
in  order  to  take  a  jump,  or,  if  you  prefer  it,  to  enable 
you  to  lift  up  the  seventy  or  eighty  Ibs.  weight,  which 
you  can  easily  do,  the  difficulty  you  experience  you  must 
attribute  to  the  earth  and  not  to  your  body,  which  has 
nothing  to  do  with  it.  In  itself  it  possesses  no  more 
real  resisting  force  than  a  stick  placed  before  me  would 
have  if  I  wished  to  draw  itj  toward  me  ;  all  its  strength 
is  in  whatever  pulls  it.  Supposing  you  held  the  stick 
the  resistance  would  be  very  trifling,  I  should  soon  suc- 
ceed in  gaining  possession  of  it ;  if  your  brother  held 
it,  the  struggle  would  be  greater,  still  I  should  conquer 
in  the  end,  whilst  if  a  horse  pulled  it,  I  should  be  obliged 
to  yield,  the  stick  would  then  be  stronger  than  I  am. 
The  same  law  applies  to  the  weight  of  bodies.  Just 


150  ATTITUDES. 

imagine  your  slight,  little  frame  transported  to  the  sur- 
face of  the  sun,  where,  for  reasons  which  it  would  take 
me  too  long  to  explain,  the  force  of  attraction  is  twenty- 
eight  times  greater  than  on  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
and,  light  as  you  really  are,  when  there  you  would  weigh 
from  1,680  to  1,940  Ibs.  You  would  have  no  power  to 
jump.  Nay,  what  am  I  saying?  you  would  be  unable 
to  take  a  single  step,  or  even  to  stand  erect.  Again, 
imagine  yourself  on  one  of  those  little  planets  which 
astronomers  now  discover  by  the  dozen,  and  where  the 
force  of  attraction  is  about  twenty  times  less  than  on 
the  earth ;  in  this  instance  we  should  find  a  little  girl 
weighing  less  than  a  four-pound  loaf,  and  able  to  take  a 
jump  of  forty  feet  without  exerting  more  strength  than 
she  now  requires  to  enable  her  to  step  across  a  ditch  two 
feet  in  width. 

As  you  see,  all  this  is  merely  a  question  of  opposing 
forces,  and  I  was  quite  correct,  when  I  spoke  to  you  of 
weight,  in  stating  that  one  must  be  strong  to  be  light. 
Let  us  thoroughly  understand  one  another  ;  the  light- 
ness that  consists  in  occupying  ourselves  with  trifles 
has  nothing  wonderful  in  it ;  it  is  like  the  lightness  of 
the  little  girl  in  the  tiny  planet,  though  even  amidst  this 
lightness  there  are  people  silly  enough  to  put  on  a  serious 
air.  But  he  who  faces  the  world's  difficulties  and  tram- 
ples the  greatest  of  them  under  foot,  treading  his  onward 
course  alert  and  joyful,  lightly  bearing  the  tenfold 
weight  accumulated  on  his  head,  is  he  not  stronger  and 
more  praiseworthy  than,  let  me  ask  you,  he  would  be  if 
he  allowed  himself  to  be  crushed  by  his  burden,  and 
reduced  to  a  level  from  which  he  would  be  unable  to 
rise? 

But  apropos  of  gravitation,  you  will  fancy,  perhaps, 
that  we  are  losing  sight  of  this  famous  centre  of  gra- 


ATTITUDES.  151 

vity,  in  speaking  of  which  I  became  entangled  in  this 
long  explanation.  Keep  your  mind  at  ease,  we  are  com- 
ing to  it. 

Balance  the  two  sides  of  a  pair  of  scales  equally,  the 
beam  which  supports  them  being  unable  to  depress  the 
one  side  without  elevating  the  other,  and  the  earth  at- 
tracting its  two  extremities  toward  it  with  equal  force, 
it  follows  that,  because  the  two  suspended  weights  are 
equal,  the  beam  remains  undecided  between  the  two 
attractions,  which,  though  equal  in  energy,  proceed  from 
different  attractions,  and  by  its  immovability  keeps  the 
bowls  of  the  scales  in  a  state  called  equilibrium. 

This  point  settled,  do  you  recollect  the  median  line  I 
spoke  to  you  about  some  time  ago,  which,  beginning  at 
the  top  of  the  head  and  continuing  in  the  direction  of 
the  nose,  divides  the  body  into  two  exact  halves,  equal 
in  weight,  one  being  a  repetition  of  the  other?  If 
these  two  halves  were  left  to  themselves  each  would 
speedily  fall  to  its  own  side,  one  to  the  right  the  other 
to  the  left,  by  the  attraction  of  the  earth,  which  dis- 
approves of  bodies  remaining  at  a  distance  from  it.  But 
these  halves  being  firmly  united  by  the  median  line, 
mutually  uphold  each  other,  the  right  half  being  unable 
to  respond  to  the  call  from  the  earth  without  dragging 
its  companion,  which,  on  its  side,  is  drawn  to  the  left, 
and  vice  versa.  They  thus  form  an  equilibrium,  and, 
provided  the  uniting  line  remains  intact,  nothing  will 
fall. 

Now,  imagine  a  second  line  separating  the  body,  front 
and  back,  into  two  other  parts  of  equal  weight,  so  long 
as  the  median  line  maintains  its  place  it  will  suffice,  will 
it  not,  to  prevent  the  body  from  falling  either  backward 
or  forward?  Again,  if  you  imagine  a  third  line  equally 
dividing  the  body  between  the  head  and  feet,  by  placing 


152  ATTITUDES. 

a  point  of  support  under  that  line,  you  will  be  able  to 
retain  the  body  crosswise,  and  prevent  one-half  carrying 
away  the  other.  The  principle  is  always  the  same,  so 
we  shall  not  have  to  go  over  the  ground  again.  At  the 
point  where  the  three  lines  meet  in  the  interior  of  the 
body  there  will  be  a  central  point  common  to  all  the 
three,  the  rallying  point,  so  to  speak,  and  around  which, 
consequently,  the  earth's  'attraction,  which  exerts  its 
power  over  each  part  of  the  body  at  the  same  time,  will 
counterbalance  itself  in  every  direction.  If  you  have 
carefully  followed  all  that  has  -gone  before,  it  must  be 
quite  clear  to  you  that  so  long  as  this  point  is  upheld  by 
a  proper  support,  a  fall  must  be  impossible.  Well,  then, 
this  point  is  the  centre  of  gravity. 

You  have  perhaps  found  this  long  explanation  a  little 
wearisome,  but  what  can  I  do  ?  It  is  the  office  of  this 
naughty  centre  of  gravity  to  fatigue  people.  From  it 
proceeds  all  the  discomfort  we  experience  when  we 
remain  standing  too  long,  and  our  loins  ache  so.  They 
complain  of  having  been  obliged  to  watch  over  the 
centre  of  gravity  in  order  to  keep  it  in  its  place,  from 
which  it  is  always  endeavoring  to  swerve,  just  like  a 
turbulent  child  pulling  at  its  nurse's  hand  in  order  to 
hurry  forward  at  the  risk  of  sprawling  on  the  ground. 
Now  that  you  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  this  ser- 
vant, I  propose  telling  you  how  he  transacts  his  business 
in  the  various  positions  of  the  body. 


CHAPTER  XYIII. 

ATTITUDE  S — (  Continued). 

IP  the  vertebral  column  ran  exactly  through  the  centre 
of  the  body  as  the  wick  does  through  that  of  a  candle  ; 
if  the  hole  in  the  skull  where  the  vertebral  column  joins 
it  were  immediately  in  the  centre  of  the  head  ;  if  the 
femur  and  tibia  fitted  firmly  and  exactly  into  their 
sockets ;  then  standing  would  cease  to  be  a  fatigue. 
The  centre  of  gravity  would  be  directly  upon  the  line 
of  the  principal  beam  of  the  edifice,  the  summit  of 
which  would  be  perfectly  poised,  and  the  supports  of 
the  body  being  deprived  of  motion,  it  being  once  placed 
erect  would  remain  so,  supported  by  bones  no  longer 
susceptible  of  experiencing  fatigue,  without  the  least 
intervention  of  the  muscles  to  establish  an  equilibrium 
which  nothing  would  derange. 

Unhappily,  such  is  not  the  case.  What  am  I  saying  ? 
It  is,  indeed,  a  happy  arrangement.  We  have  been  formed 
to  move  forward,  and  not  to  remain  stationary ;  if  the 
measures  taken  to  facilitate  our  walking  had  to  succumb 
to  the  advantages  of  immobility,  we  should  lose  too 
much  by  the  exchange. 

First  of  all,  the  vertebral  column  is  found  toward 
the  back  part  of  the  body,  and  the  weight  of  the  organs 
contained  in  the  chest  and  stomach  tend  to  drag  it  for- 
ward throughout  its  whole  length.  Again,  the  head  if 
left  to  itself,  would  fall  upon  the  chest,  and  still  further 
increase  the  preponderance  of  weight  on  the  front  of 
7*  (153) 


154  ATTITUDES. 

the  column.  Lastly,  there  are  only  rounded  surfaces  to 
the  joints  of  the  femur  and  tibia,  which  are  always  ready 
to  glide  one  upon  the  other,  and  the  bend  of  the  two 
bones  'which  meet  obliquely  at  the  knee  continually 
causes  them  to  swerve  at  the  point  of  contact. 

The  muscles  must  then  be  constantly  in  play  to  resist 
these  impulses,  and  bear  up  against  these  sources  of 
weakness.  Those  of  the  neck  pull  upon  the  head  so  as 
to  hold  it  back.  Those  which  fill  the  empty  spaces  be- 
tween the  vertebrae  all  along  the  column,  draw  the 
whole  body  to  it.  The  extensors  of  the  femur  and  of 
the  tibia  stiffen'  to  keep  these  bones  in  position,  and  from 
head  to  foot  there  is  a  perpetual  struggle  between  the 
external  force,  proceeding  from  the  earth,  which  strives 
to  accomplish  the  fall  of  our  movable  framework,  and 
the  force  that  is  within  us  which  enables  us  to  preserve 
our  upright  posture. 

•  Now  our  muscles — the  agents  of  this  interior  power, 
a  necessary  one,  because  its  antagonist  is  always  pre- 
sent, our  muscles — as  I  have  already  informed  you,  are 
short-winded  wrestlers,  and  require  to  rest  at  every  mo- 
ment. This  is  the  reason  why  absolute  immobility  is  so 
fatiguing,  or,  to  say  better,  impossible  to  preserve.  Just 
take  notice  what  occurs  when  you  are  obliged  to  stand 
without  movement ;  from  time  to  time,  the  knees  .yield 
and  then  return  to  their  position,  the  body  stoops  forward 
and  draws  itself  up  again,  an  imperceptible  oscillation 
of  the  head  occurs  without  your  being  conscious  of  it. 
These  are  the  extensor  muscles,  which  relax  at  intervals 
only  to  brace  themselves  up  afresh.  As  the  moments  of 
repose  are  necessarily  very  limited,  the  merciless  weight 
never  giving  any  truce,  the  poor  extensors,  upon  whom 
all  the  work  devolves,  soon  ask  to  be  released,  far  sooner 
than  if  you  were  walking,  for  then  the  extensors  and 


ATTITUDES.  155 

flexors  must  each  take  its  own  turn,  and  they  have  longer 
time  allowed  them  for  repose. 

Have  you  ever  remarked  that  when  you  are  standing 
you  involuntarily  keep  your  feet  at  a  little  distance  from 
one  another,  placing  one  rather  in  advance  in  order  to 
make  your  balance  more  sure?  You  have  very  often 
done  this,  and  yet  I  feel  pretty  sure  you  never  thought 
that,  in  acting  thus,  you  were  enlarging  your  base  of 
support.  Here  is  another  term  of  which  I  must  teach 
you  the  meaning. 

Our  centre  of  gravity  is  placed  at  the  top  of  the  sa- 
crum, to  the  front  in  the  interior  of  the  body.  In  order 
to  secure  a  body  from  falling,  the  perpendicular  of  its 
centre  of  gravity,  that  is  to  say,  the  line  of  direction 
passing  from  it  to  the  ground,  must  fall  within  its  base, 
or  on  the  space  comprised  between  several  points  of 
support.  This  is  what  is  called  its  basis  of  support, 
and  you  can  readily  understand  that  the  more  extended 
it  is,  the  more  margin  is  allowed  to  the  centre  of  gravity 
above  it,  within  which  to  balance  itself. 

This  is  why  quadrupeds  are  so  well  balanced  upon  their 
legs ;  their  centre  of  gravity  has  the  whole  space  between 
their  four  feet  for  a  supporting  basis,  and  so  they  are  su- 
perabundantly guaranteed  against  all  chance  of  falling. 

We,  on  the  other  hand,  have  no  basis  except  our  two 
feet,  and  well  it  is  for  us  that  we  can  enlarge  it  by  plac- 
ing our  feet  apart,  when,  owing  to  the  relaxing  of  our 
extensors,  our  centre  of  gravity  oscillates.  As  this  ten- 
dency is  to  fall  forward,  it  is  also  in  the  same  direction 
that  we  naturally  increase  our  basis  by  advancing  one 
foot.  Besides,  the  very  conformation  of  our  feet  is  in 
accordance  with  this  tendency  of  the  centre  of  gravity 
to  fall  forward.  They  lengthen  in  a  vertical  sense,  and 
when  we  are  standing  it  is  not  upon  the  heel,  but  on  the 


156  ATTITUDES. 

middle,  more  frequently  at  the  extremity  of  the  foot,  that 
the  weight  of  the  body  falls.  Try  to  stand  steadily  upon 
your  heels,  and  see  how  very  difficult  it  is  to  preserve 
the  centre  of  gravity  perpendicular  to  this  base.  If 
you  make  the  same  experiment  on  your  toes,  you  will 
find  it  easier,  unless  your  calves,  by  the  fatigue  you  ex- 
perience, do  not  soon  warn  you  that  the  extensors  of  the 
foot,  which  are  lodged  there,  cannot  endure  the  neces- 
sary effort  required  to  sustain  the  body  for  any  length 
of  time,  and  so  cry  out  to  be  relieved. 

We  are  also  able  to  displace  this  valuable  centre  of 
gravity  on  which  the  common  safety  depends,  whenever 
it  threatens  harm,  and  we  can  transport  it  to  a  place  of 
safety,  like  a  nation  which  changes  its  capital  to  pre- 
serve its  independence.  Do  you  see  this  tight-rope 
dancer,  who  has  only  for  his  basis  of  support,  an  inch  of 
hemp,  upon  which  the  famous  perpendicular  must  fall 
to  a  nicety,  under  pain  of  carrying  all  along  with  it,  if 
by  any  mischance  it  swerves  to  one  side.  Here  it  is  not 
a  question  of  enlarging  the  basis,  which  is  invariable, 
and  the  centre  of  gravity  no  longer  needs  oscillate.  He 
must  change  his  position  each  moment,  so  as  to  preserve 
the  centre  of  gravity  immediately  above  the  cord.  For 
this  purpose  rope-dancers  make  use  of  a  long  pole, 
which  the  dancer  holds  in  his  two  hands,  passing  it  from 
right  to  left,  according  as  the  movement  of  the  body 
causes  an  excess  of  weight  to  fall  to  the  one  side  or  the 
other.  Skillful  dancers  dispense  with  the  pole,  and  shift 
the  centre  of  gravity  from  one  point  to  another,  simply 
by  balancing  themselves  so  as  to  maintain  an  equal 
weight  on  either  side.  When  not  quite  sure  of  our  foot- 
ing, or  when  afraid  of  our  centre  of  gravity  misleading 
us,  we  instinctively  adopt  these  measures,  and  throw  out 
our  arms  so  as  to  recover  our  balance.  A  person  who 


ATTITUDES.  157 

is  not  master  of  his  basis  must  yield  to  it,  and  follow 
where  it  leads  him,  if  he  wishes  to  avoid  falling  ;  this  is 
a  maxim  you  should  never  forget. 

There  are  certain  cases  in  which  the  centre  of  gravity 
is,  in  spite  of  ourselves,  thrown  beyond  its  usual  limits, 
and  we  are  then  compelled  to  vary  our  position,  accord- 
ing to  the  new  conditions  presented  to  us. 

Suppose  now  that  I  place  a  heavily  laden  basket  upon 
my  back,  my  centre  of  gravity  immediately  passes  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  column  ;  its  perpendicular  falls  be- 
hind my  heels  and  changes  the  duty  of  the  muscles.  In 
this  instance  the  flexors  are  the  ones  to  contract,  that 
they  may  bend  the  body  with  its  burden  forward ;  we  are 
then  in  no  danger  of  falling  backward,  and  the  extensors 
take  a  holiday. 

On  the  other  hand,  what  happens  to  the  women  who 
go  about  selling  apples,  and  carry  their  merchandise  in 
front  of  them,  on  flat  baskets  strapped  to  their  waists 
by  a  belt  ?  If  they  were  not  to  throw  their  body  well 
backward  their  centre  of  gravity  would  be  put  in  peril, 
from  the  weight  of  the  basket.  You  may  easily  see  how 
they  throw  themselves  backward  upon  their  loins,  and 
waddle  as  they  wai&,  fearing  to  bring  their  feet  too  close 
together,  lest  their  balance  should  be  disturbed. 

This  is  exactly  the  position  a  very  stout  person 
naturally  assumes.  If  he  stood  quite  straight,  his  un- 
fortunate perpendicular  would  fall  beyond  his  toes,  so  he 
is  compelled  to  tighten  the  rein  lest  it  should  carry 
him  too  far. 

Lastly,  endeavor  to  lift  with  one  hand  a  pail  filled 
with  water.  Your  whole  body  will  lean  to  the  opposite 
side  in  a  moment,  and  you  will  plant  one  foot  as  near  to 
the  pail  as  possible,  and  always  for  the  same  reason,  that 
the  combined  weight  of  your  body  and  the  pail  may 


158  ATTITUDES. 

find  their  point  of  equilibrium  above  the  space  compre- 
hended between  your  feet. 

Thus  it  is,  that  amidst  the  continued  struggle  carried 
on  by  our  muscles  against  the  power  of  the  earth's  at- 
traction, instinct  comes  to  the  rescue,  and  enables  them 
to  triumph  over  it.  So  long  as  you  unconsciously  re- 
sisted in  the  way  an  animal  does,  I  say  it  was  by  instinct ; 
let  us  understand  each  other.  Now  that  you  know  why 
you  do  so,  it  will  be  the  result  of  reason  if  you  give 
yourself  time  to  think  about  it ;  not  that  you  are  likely 
to  carry  out  the  rule  any  better  than  hitherto,  but  what 
a  difference  1 

To  any  one  seated,  the  struggle  soon  becomes  a  less 
severe  one,  because  the  very  position  obliges  us  partly  to 
yield  to  the  wishes  of  our  imperious  mother,  the  earth, 
who  unhesitatingly  attracts  toward  her  whatever  has 
emanated  from  her  bosom,  and  she  has  no  longer  to  re- 
claim what  has  been  given  to  her.  The  legs,  those  thin 
vacillating  props  which  we  have  always  to  keep  an  eye 
upon,  are  no  longer  taken  into  -account,  and  the  centre 
of  gravity  is  perfectly  poised,  situated  as  it  is  only  a 
few  inches  distant  from  a  base  sufficiently  large  to  guar- 
*  rantee  its  perfect  security.  Nevertheless,  a  great  deal 
remains  to  be  said.  The  struggle  still  continues  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  body,  which,  unless  held  in  check  by 
the  muscles  of  the  vertebral  column,  would  incline  for- 
ward. Those  of  the  neck  are  also  obliged  to  work  con- 
tinually, so  as  to  prevent  the  head  from  falling.  Let 
but  sleep  intervene  to  benumb  the  muscular  action  for  a 
moment,  and  the  chin  soon  drops  on  the  chest,  and  con- 
tinues its  downward  tendency,  until  this  inexplicable 
instinct  within  us,  which  watches  over  our  entire  econo- 
my, rouses  it  from  its  torpor  by  one  of  those  sudden 
starts  so  familiar  to  all  of  us  in  such  cases. 


ATTITUDES.  159 

There  are  two  ways,  then,  in  which  assistance  may  "be 
rendered  to  the  muscles,  the  first  of  which  is  to  seek  a 
support  behind  that  shall  receive  the  weight  of  the  upper 
part  of  the  body.  For  this  express  purpose  backs  to 
our  chairs  have  been  invented.  The  second  is  by  lean- 
ing forward  upon  the  elbows,  just  as  a  house  that  leans 
to  one  side  must  be  propped  up  by  beams  ;  and  indolent 
people,  who  prefer  yielding  to  carry  on  a  struggle,  are 
in  the  habit  of  adopting  this  plan  at  table.  I  mention 
this  casually,  because  I  know  you  to  be  a  well-brought-up 
little  child,  and  that  your  mother  never  suffers  you  to  lay 
an  elbow  on  the  table.  Besides,  there  is  really  no  ne- 
cessity for  it.  The  muscles  are  like  ourselves  ;  when 
once  they  are  accustomed  to  working  they  think  nothing 
of  it. 

The  moment  when  the  supplementary  point  of  support 
is  especially  useful  is  when  we  are  kneeling  ;  the  extrem- 
ity of  the  tibia  upon  which  the  weight  of  the  body  falls 
does  not  stretch  forward  as  the  foot  does,  and  the  centre 
of  gravity  has  no  other  balancing  margin  at  this  side. 
Thus  the  body  instinctively  throws  itself  backward,  the 
femur  begins  to  revolve  in  its  socket,  which  gives  way, 
and  as  the  fatigue  of  resisting  this  bending  for  any 
length  of  time  would  be  too  much  for  the  extensors,  and 
especially  in  children,  whose  bones  in  this  region  are 
still  rather  soft,  unless  a  great  effort  is  made,  the  femur 
gradually  falls,  until  at  last  the  poor  children  are  found 
seated  upon  their  heels,  which  is  neither  a  pretty  nor  a 
comfortable  position.  Between  ourselves,  it  is  very  cruel 
to  keep  these  little  creatures  too  long  upon  their  knees, 
whether  it  is  done  by  way  of  punishment  or  to  teach 
them  to  pray  to  the  good  God,  who,  I  am  sure,  never 
requires  that  the  body  shall  be  suffering  whilst  the  heart 
is  ascending  to  Him.  The  Prie-Dieu  has  been  invented 


160  ATTITUDES. 

for  the  relief  of  the  extensors  of  the  femur  during  the 
time  devoted  to  prayer  ;  they  permit  the  body,  by  lean- 
ing with  the  arms  upon  the  back  of  the  chair,  to  advance 
its  base  of  support  in  front.  The  centre  of  gravity  is 
thus  enabled  to  fall  beyond  the  knee  without  any  risk, 
and  the  toes  no  longer  need  to  be  doubled  up  under  part 
of  the  weight  of  the  body. 

Lastly  comes  the  attitude  of  complete  rest.  The  earth 
can  ask  nothing  more  from  a  man  who  is  lying  down  ;  he 
has  fully  yielded  to  its  attraction.  God  forbid  that  I 
should  say  a  word  against  the  horizontal  line  so  dear  to 
lazy  persons,  and  so  welcome  to  diligent  ones  when  their 
strength  is  exhausted.  Ungrateful,  indeed,  would  the 
individual  be  who  could  attempt  to  speak  slightingly  of 
it,  though  we  must  agree  that  it  is  the  least  glorious  of 
all  positions.  There  is,  after  all,  some  glory  in  small 
creatures  like  ourselves  being  able  to  resist  this  large 
mass  of  earth,  and  excusable  as  we  may  be  when  we  fin- 
ish by  succumbing  to  its  power,  it  is  not  after  all  less  a 
defeat. 

I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you  about  this  horizontal  po- 
sition. Those  who  do  nothing  can  have  nothing  to  relate. 
Our  muscles  have  no  more  to  do  after  they  cease  to  dis- 
pute with  the  earth  the  weight  which  we  have  handed 
over  to  it.  There  is  no  longer  any  necessity  for  main- 
taining the  centre  of  gravity  above  its  base.  The  base 
is  everywhere,  and  the  innumerable  perpendiculars 
emanating  from  all  points  of  the  body,  abandoned  to 
themselves  by  the  universal  fall,  are  always  sure  to  meet 
again.  By  our  abdication  we  avoid  all  fatigue  as  well 
as  all  danger.  It  is  more  certain  and  more  convenient,  but, 
I  repeat  it  again,  it  is  less  glorious  ;  the  superabundance 
of  points  of  support  deprives  us  of  all  movement.  The 
Hindoos,  who  neither  pride  themselves  upon  their  energy 


ATTITUDES.  161 

nor  their  self-love,  have  a  proverb  to  express  this  cow- 
ardly state  of  blessedness  arising  from  the  absence  of 
struggle  and  movement :  "  It  is  better  to  sit  than  to  stand, 
to  lie  down  than  to  sit,"  and  they  add,  "  to  die  than  to 
lie  down."  They  should  begin  with  the  latter.  Those 
who  prefer  life  to  death  would  do  well  to  reverse  the 
proverb. 

Now,  do  not  let  this  prevent  your  going  to  bed  will- 
ingly the  instant  your  mother  tells  you,  my  dear  child. 
Human  weakness  has  rights  which  it  would  be  imprudent 
not  to  recognize,  and  it  would  never  do  for  you  to  feel 
it  a  humiliation  to  be  obliged  to  rest  yourself.  Even 
nations  must  rest  sometimes. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  HUMAN  BODY. 

BEFORE  I  speak  to  you  of  our  different  movements,  I 
must  say  a  word  or  two  upon  movement  in  general,  and 
the  laws  by  which  it  is  governed,  otherwise  you  would 
be  unable  to  understand  the  subject  properly. 

As  far  as  we  know,  we  occupy  the  highest  place  in 
the  scale  of  animal  existence,  and  it  is  with  some  de- 
gree of  pride  that  we  call  ourselves  kings  of  the  crea- 
tion, of  course  of  the  terrestrial  creation.  We  must  not, 
however,  think  too  highly  of  our  royalty,  inasmuch  as 
those  among  us  who  are  really  kings  are  subject  like 
the  rest  of  us  to  the  ordinary  conditions  of  human  life, 
suffering  in  their  turn  just  like  simple  mortals,  so  the 
kings  of  creation  are  subjected  to  the  same  laws  which 
act  on  everything  below  them.  The  matter  of  which 
our  body  is  composed  obeys  these  governing  laws  with 
the  same  exactitude  that  everything  else  does,  and  the 
laws  of  its  movements  are  the  very  same  as  those  which 
regulate  the  movement  of  stones.  You  need  not  feel 
offended  at  this,  for  they  are  the  same  laws  also 
which  govern  the  motions  of  the  stars.  Nothing  is 
insignificant  in  their  sight,  nothing  too  important.  They 
are  divine,  and  it  can  be  no  disgrace  to  any  one  to  obey 
them. 

All  bodies  therefore,  our  own  included,  are  of  them- 
selves incapable  of  movement ;  they  are  alike  unable  to 
impart  or  remove  their  motive  power.  It  is  in  some  sort 
(162) 


MOVEMENTS  OF   THE    HUMAN   BODY.  163 

a  guest  lodging  within  them  who  goes  out  and  comes  in 
at  will,  without  the  host  being  able  to  interfere. 

Motion  is  change,  the  result  of  the  action  which 
different  forces  exercise  over  bodies.  I  am  almost  afraid 
of  explaining  to  you  what  a  force  is,  lest  I  should  in 
any  way  puzzle  you  regarding  a  term  the  sense  of  which 
ought  to  be  so  very  clear  to  your  mind.  Besides,  we 
have  already  made  use  of  the  word  several  times  with- 
out any  explanation.  The  power  by  which  the  earth 
draws  toward  it  whatever  would  fly  from  it  is  a  force. 
The  energetic  contraction  of  the  muscles,  bending  or 
straightening  our  limbs  in  obedience  to  the  will  is  a  force. 
The  spring  that  relaxes  in  order  to  repel  whatever  it 
encounters  in  its  progress,  is  a  force,  and  certainly  a 
very,  important  force,  since  it  is  the  one  that  propels  our 
balls  and  our  bullets,  and  causes  our  steam-engines  to 
work.  All  these  forces  determine  the  movements 
required  for  the  bodies  on  which  they  act.  Try  to  find 
me  a  body  capable  of  movement,  without  a  power  to 
set  it  in  motion.  You  will  never  succeed  in  doing  so. 

I  am  going  to  tell  you  something  that  will  appear 
very  strange  to  you  at  first,  but  which  you  will  soon 
understand  ;  it  is  this,  that  when  once  a  force  has  set  a 
body  in  motion,  though  the  force  should  suddenly  be 
withdrawn,  as  is  the  case  with  a  contracted  muscle  when 
it  becomes  relaxed,  the  body  would  always  continue  in 
motion,  if  the  effect  produced  upon  it  were  not  destroyed 
by  other  forces  acting  in  a  contrary  direction.  Thus 
when  you  jump  in  order  to  cross  a  ditch,  if  some  magic 
power  were  to  transport  you  suddenly  far  from  the  earth 
into  the  void  of  space,  this  little  insignificant  bound 
would  impel  you  onward  indefinitely,  and  you  would  be- 
come a  little  star  carried  away,  like  your  fellow  stars,  in 
an  endless  course. 


164  MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  HUMAN  BODY. 

This  makes  you  smile,  but  just  reflect  for  a  moment. 
What  makes  you  alight  upon  the  ground  after  being 
lifted  from  off  it  ?  It  is  the  ever-jealous  earth  recalling 
you  to  it :  you  understand  it  all  now.  If  the  earth  were 
not  there  to  recall  you,  what  would  there  be  to  stop 
your  course  ?  One  would  be  rich  all  one's  life  with  a 
halfpenny  in  one's  pocket,  provided  there  were  never 
any  occasion  to  spend  it ;  with  a  jump  such  as  yours  you 
would  continue  moving  forever,  if  nothing  came  in  the 
way  to  neutralise  it. 

You  will  perhaps  not  have  noticed  a  remark  I  recently 
made,  "  Far  from  the  earth  in  the  void  of  space."  I  had 
my  reasons  for  employing  the  word  void  in  my  supposi- 
tion. No  charity  can  equal  that  possessed  by  bodies  when 
in  motion.  They  cannot  meet  with  other  bodies  and 
not  share  equally  whatever  movement  they  have  derived 
from  their  motive  power.  It  seems  as  if  they  always 
carry  their  provisions  with  them,  and  distribute  them  as 
they  journey  along. 

Only  this  charity  is  not  capricious  and  arbitrary,  like 
ours.  Bodies  have  not  the  same  freedom  that  souls 
have  ;  everything  connected  with  them  is  regulated  by 
fixed,  inexorable  laws.  These  are  called  mathematical 
laws,  and  we  must  have  recourse  to  our  arithmetic  to 
enable  me  to  explain  in  what  manner  this  compulsory 
division  of  movement  is  accomplished. 

A  boy  with  twenty  pennies  in  his  pocket  meets  a 
party  of  nineteen  poor  fellows  whose  purses  are  all  empty, 
he  gives  a  penny  to  each,  and  at  once  all  are  equal. 
You  can  fancy  how  such  a  game  would  soon  ruin  the 
richest  man  in  the  world.  Well,  this  is  the  game  that 
bodies  play  ;  when  a  boy,  who  has  received  his  New  Year's 
gifts,  meets  a  group  of  poor  children  who  have  had  no 
presents,  that  is  to  say,  when  a  small  body  set  in  motion 


MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  HUMAN  BODY.       165 

by  a  force  meets  with  a  large  immovable  body,  it  scat- 
ters its'  abundance  through  the  whole  mass.  When  a 
party  of  wealthy  people  meets  with  a  poor  boy,  that  is  to 
say,  when  a  large  body  set  in  motion  encounters  a  small 
one  at  rest,  they  subscribe  among  themselves,  and  give 
to  the  new  comer  a  share  equal  to  each  of  theirs,  and  if 
many  new  comers  fall  in  their  way,  the  whole  band  will 
eventually  be  ruined. 

Now  the  atoms  of  air  in  the  midst  of  which  we  exist 
are  as  many  minute  bodies,  and  your  little  person, 
unimposing  as  it  may  appear  in  the  eyes  of  the  world, 
is  a  very  formidable  colossus  when  compared  to  them. 
But  as,  in  your  transit  through  the  air,  you  would  be 
continually  called  upon  to  distribute  some  of  the  provis- 
ion you  had  received,  however  minute  the  part  bestowed 
on  each  of  these  atoms  might  be,  so  little  would  at  last  be 
left  to  yourself  that  it  would  not  be  worth  speaking 
about.  You  see  my  supposing  you  placed  in  the  void 
in  order  to  insure  the  perpetuity  of  your  celestial  course 
was  not  amiss,  and  in  fact  the  heavenly  bodies  do  assur- 
edly traverse  space  ;  nothing  is  more  certain. 

But  all  this  is  merely  a  supposition  ;  a  chimera  im- 
possible to  be  realized.  Nothing  can  rescue  terrestrial 
bodies  from  the  action  of  the  immense  globe  on  which 
they  rest.  Let  me  tell  you  what  happens  when  any  power 
robs  them  of  its  attraction  for  one  single  moment. 

It  is  a  long  time  ago,  and  yet  I  recollect  it  as  vividly 
as  if  it  had  happened  only  yesterday.  I  was  at  school, 
and  was  very  fond  of  amusement,  and  a  great  player  at 
ball  ;  a  most  wholesome  recreation  for  boys,  and  one  I 
would  gladly  recommend  to  you,  were  it  not  that  you 
are  unfitted  for  this  game  owing  to  certain  peculiarities 
connected  with  your  clavicle,  which  I  have  already  ex- 
plained to  you.  It  was  a  great  delight  to  me  to  throw 


166  MOVEMENTS   OF   THE   HUMAN   BODY. 

my  ball  with  all  my  might  high  into  the  air,  so  that  I 
might  catch  it  in  my  hand  as  it  fell,  without  changing 
place.  It  was  always  a  fresh  cause  of  wonder  to  me  to 
see  it  go  up  with  such  rapidity  at  first,  then  gradually 
slacken  its  speed,  then  stop  and  remain  immovable  for 
an  instant,  just  as  if  held  in  the  air  by  some  invisible 
hand,  and  afterward  begin  to  come  down  slowly,  as  if 
with  regret,  accelerating  its  speed  little  by  little,  and  at 
last  falling  into  my  hand  with  a  rapidity  which  at  that 
time  appeared  perfectly  startling.  A  big  boy,  a  philoso- 
pher, as  those  youths  were  termed  who  were  admitted 
to  the  dignified  lectures  on  physics,  one  day  told  me 
that  the  ball,  on  reaching  my  hand,  had  precisely  the 
same  rapidity  as  it  had  on  leaving  it,  and  sorely  did  I 
rack  my  brain  in  the  hope  of  discovering  a  satisfactory 
reason  for  so  strange  a  problem.  It  is  very  simple. 

You  know  the  story  of  the  Wandering  Jew  and  his  five 
halfpence,  the  most  substantially  rich  man  on  record, 
because  no  matter  how  frequently  he  distributed  his  half- 
pence, the  full  sum  was  always  to  be  found  in  his  purse. 
Now  instead  of  this  Jew's  inexhaustible  store,  let  your 
imagination  suppose  a  large  bag  swelled  out  by  five 
thousand  halfpence,  but  devoid  of  all  magic  charm,  and 
the  possessor  obliged  to  give  away  five  of  the  halfpence 
at  each  step  he  takes  ;  if  he  takes  a  thousand  steps,  it  is 
quite  clear  that  when  he  reaches  the  thousandth  he  will 
have  nothing  left.  The  bag  will  not  be  worth  as  much 
as  the  unpretending  yet  never-empty  purse  of  Ahasuerus. 
But  supposing  the  owner  of  the  bag,  on  retracing  his 
steps  received  five  halfpence  at  each  step  he  takes,  he 
will,  on  arriving  at  the  thousandth,  naturally  have  pre- 
cisely the  same  amount  as  at  the  commencement  of  his 
journey  ;  viz.,  five  thousand  pence.  This  is  too  clear  to 
require  any  explanation. 


MOVEMENTS   OF  THE  HUMAN  BODY.  167 

It  is  the  history  of  the  ball  thrown  straight  up  into  the 
air.  The  impetus  given  it  on  leaving  the  school-boy's 
hands  was  given  once  for  all ;  no  matter  what  is  ex- 
pended, nothing  will  be  renewed,  any  more  than  a  young 
man  who  has  extravagantly  run  through  his  patrimony 
can  at  the  same  time  spend  his  money  and  keep  it.  It 
proceeds  from  one  of  those  forces  called  spontaneous, 
because  their  action  is  only  felt  during  a  very  brief 
moment.*  The  attraction  exercised  over  the  ball  by  the 
earth  in  an  opposite  direction  is,  on  the  contrary,  a  con- 
tinued force.  This  is  the  term  employed.  Its  power  is 
as  constantly  expended  and  restored  as  the  halfpence  of 
the  Wandering  Jew.  You  are  aware  that  when  two 
opposing  bodies  meet,  the  stronger  can  only  gain  the' 
victory  by  leaving  a  portion  of  itself  equal  to  its  rival 
upon  the  field  of  contest.  A  word,  however,  may  be  said 
in  favor  of  these  combats.  They  are  in  accordance 
with  justice,  and  the  majority  would  reverence  the 
minority  a  little  more  than  they  do,  if  the  latter  could 
only  be  suppressed  upon  these  conditions.  But  what  am 
I  talking  of,  my  dear  child  ?  Majority  and  minority  are 
alike  matters  of  indifference  to  you  ;  why  is  not  this  the 
case  with  the  whole  world  ? 

To  return  to  our  ball,  however,  it  can  only  ascend  by 
paying  a  ransom  to  the  earth,  that  is  to  say,  by  sacrifi- 
cing a  portion  of  its  motive  power  equal  to  the  force  of 
attraction  it  has  to  overcome  ;  so,  as  this  is  a  continuous 
power,  no  sooner  overthrown  than  it  is  again  to  be  found 
at  its  post,  ever  ready  for  combat,  the  ransom  becomes 
an  incessant  one,  and  the  impetus  given  to  it  gradually 

*  In  tins  instance,  the  spontaneous  power  is  the  sudden  contrac- 
tion of  the  muscles  directing  the  arm  upward,  which,  from  being  kept 
in  check  by  its  numerous  guardians,  conveys  its  impetus  to  the 
ball,  so  that  it  voluntarily  leaves  the  hand  at  the  moment  the  latter 
re-opens,  to  allow  it  to  escape. 


168  MOVEMENTS   OF   THE   HUMAN   BODY. 

diminishing,  the  ball  consequently  slackens  its  speed  in 
proportion,  until  the  period  arrives  for  the  last  payment 
to  be  made.  Then  comes  a  time  of  rest,  a  brief  moment 
during  which  the  little  remaining  power  makes  a  last 
effort,  in  order  once  more  to  overthrow  the  obstinate 
force  of  attraction  ;  finally,  this  power  of  attraction, 
henceforth  without  a  rival,  seizes  the  fugitive,  leads  it  back 
triumphantly,  though  slowly  at  first,  for  it  is  modest  on 
setting  out.  But  as  the  impetus  of  the  ball  was  always 
on  the  decrease  during  the  ascent,  it  will  continue  to  in- 
crease with  the  descent ;  the  cause  of  the  increase  in  the 
latter  instance  will  be  precisely  the  same  as  that  of  the 
decrease  in  the  former.  The  increase  and  decrease  of 
the  rapidity  are  alike  measured  by  this  continuous  force, 
which  is  ever  being  renewed,  and  which  at  length  attains 
to  a  point  where  there  is  no  longer  any  antagonist  to 
neutralise  it  as  fast  as  it  is  produced.  The  money-bag 
on  its  return  home  becomes  replenished  with  exactly  the 
same  amount  it  possessed  at  the  commencement  of  its 
journey,  and  the  ball  returns  to  its  starting-point  with 
precisely  the  same  motive  power  with  which  it  was 
charged  at  the  onset. 

I  hope  you  begin  to  feel  a  little  at  home  with  these 
laws  of  motion,  which  perhaps  seemed  somewhat  alarm- 
ing at  first.  They  are  not  more  formidable  than  any 
other  study,  especially  when  not  pursued  too  far,  and 
when  we  are  satisfied,  as  at  present,  to  understand  all 
thoroughly  as  we  go  along.  I  will  only  ask  your  atten- 
tion for  another  moment,  and  then  pass  to  something  else. 

I  spoke  to  you  a  short  time  ago  of  the  ball  quitting 
the  hand  involuntarily,  being  projected  into  the  air  by 
muscles  which,  most  happily  for  us,  retain  the  arm  in  its 
proper  place.  In  a  similar  manner  I  was  once  involun- 
tarily pitched  out  of  a  carriage,  the  horse  of  which  taking 


MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  HUMAN  BODY.       169 

fright,  galloped  off  as  if  it  were  mad,  and  then  suddenly 
came  to  a  stand-still ;  and  I  can  assure  you,  from  personal 
experience,  that  the  law  of  motion  that  caused  the  ball 
to  ascend  so  quickly  treated  my  royal  person  in  the  most 
unceremonious  manner.  I  found  myself  seated  upon  the 
ground,  having  gone  over  the  horse's  head,  before  I  had 
time  to  think  what  had  occurred. 

This  cavalier  law  is  the  selfsame  as  that  which  throws 
you  violently  to  the  ground,  when  you  attempt  to  alight 
from  a  carriage  moving  rapidly.  Your  parents  must  re- 
member a  fatal  accident  that  took  place  in  Paris  above 
twenty  years  ago.  I  refer  to  the  death  of  a  prince  called 
the  Duke  of  Orleans,  who,  had  he  not  fallen  a  sacrifice 
to  an  accident  of  this  kind,  would  probably  now  have 
been  on  the  French  throne. 

When  you  are  in  a  railway  carriage,  you  experience 
no  particular  sensation ;  nevertheless,  you  have  within 
you  a  force  capable  of  killing  you  if  you  gave  it  an 
opportunity  of  revealing  its  presence.  Everything  in 
that  train  is  carried  along  by  one  and  the  same 
movement  j  if  it  travel  a.t  the  rate  of 'thirty  miles  an 
hour,  you  may  consider  yourself  a  projectile  impelled  at 
this  speed.  As  all  that  surounds  you  is  travelling  with 
you  at  the  same  time  and  at  the  same  speed,  there  is 
nothing  to  make  you  sensible  of  the  enormous  amount  of 
motive  force  you  possess,  and  thus  you  travel  up  and 
down  the  line,  devoid  of  apprehension. 

If  two  trains  were  running  along  side  by  side  at  an 
equal  speed,  you  would  be  able  to  jump  fearlessly  from 
one  to  the  other,  the  speed  of  the  carriage  you  jumped 
into  being  precisely  the  same  as  the  speed  of  the  one 
you  quitted.  Your  own  speed  would  consequently 
undergo  no  change,  it  would  be  exactly  as  if  you  jumped 
from  one  end  to  the  other  of  the  same  carriage. 
8 


170  MOVEMENTS  OF   THE  HUMAN  BODY. 

But  you  must  never  think  of  jumping  out  of  a  car  in 
motion.  The  terrible  thirty-miles-an-hour  movement 
that  is  carrying  you  along,  having  no  cause  for  relaxing, 
will  continue  to  impel  you  forward,  so  that,  when  your 
feet  touch  the  ground,  which  is  immovable,  your  body 
will  be  hurled  forward  with  a  violence  sufficient  to  break 
your  bones. 

If  the  train  were  to  be  suddenly  stopped  by  any  in- 
superable obstacle,  this  merciless  motion  would  show 
you  no  favor.  Your  body  would  continue  moving,  at 
the  risk  of  being  dashed  against  the  sides  of  the  car. 
The  same  law  would  also  hold  good  with  the  cars  them- 
selves under  similar  circumstances.  When  the  engine 
meets  with  an  impediment,  the  cars  at  the  end  of  the  train 
continue  their  course,  regardless  of  the  obstruction  ;  thus 
they  may  be  seen  mounted  one  upon  another,  mutually 
spreading  destruction  amongst  themselves  and  the  poor 
passengers  inside. 

When  I  spoke  of  the  earth  as  immovable,  bear  in  mind 
that  I  only  made  use  of  the  term  in  comparing  it  with 
the  movement  of  the  train.  Whilst  you  are  seated  in 
your  chair  by  your  mother's  side,  you  are  as  safe  as  any 
little  girl  can  possibly  be,  utterly  unconscious  of  all 
chance  of  harm.  Yet  there  is  within  you  at  this  present 
moment  what  would  kill  you  at  least  a  thousand  times 
over,  could  the  supposition  I  am  about  to  make  be 
realised.  This  earth,  which  you  would  say  is  so  immov- 
able, is  carried  along  in  its  course  around  the  sun  at  a 
speed  of  about  twenty  miles  a  second,  if  we  are  quite 
accurate,  and  take  in  the  fractions,  which  would  make  a 
great  addition  to  the  speed  at  which  our  trains  run. 
Now  you  naturally  share  in  this  frightful  impetus,  just 
as  much  as  if  it  were  a  carriage,  and  what  is  more,  every 
single  thing  on  the  earth  also  shares  it  with  you.  What 


MOVEMENTS   OF   THE   HUMAN   BODY.  171 

a  catastrophe,  then,  its  cessation  for  one  single  instant 
would  involve !  Can  you  in  any  degree  conceive  the 
result?  Why,  you,  the  house,  this  city  even,  would 
disappear,  like  so  much  chaff  before  the  wind.  Your 
plight  would  be  far  worse  than  mine  when  I  was  hurled 
out  of  the  carriage. 

I  leave  you  with  this  idea,  which  is  calculated  to  in- 
spire you  with  respect  for  the  laws  by  which  the  world 
is  governed,  and  I  pass  on  to  our  insignificant  movements. 
You  are  now  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  subject  to 
admit  of  my  giving  you  their  history. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  MOVEMENTS — (Continued.) 

WHEN  a  drill-sergeant  teaches  his  recruits  to  march, 
and  gives  the  word  of  command,  "  Forward,  march,"  etc., 
at  the  word  "  Forward,"  he  makes  them  stand  with  the 
left  foot  carried  well  to  the  front,  raised  from  the  ground. 
This  is  called  dividing  the  step.  We  are  also  going  to 
do  the  same. 

Stand  perfectly  upright,  your  two  feet  drawn  together 
in  line,  as  the  unarmed  soldier  does,  and  remember  you 
have  to  advance  your  left"  foot  first.  Your  body  imper- 
ceptibly balances  itself,  and  your  centre  of  gravity  is 
immediately  transported  to  the  line  of  your  right  leg, 
which  has,  for  the  moment,  to  support  your  whole  weight. 
The  left  leg,  relieved  from  duty,  bends  at  first,  thanks 
to  the  action  of  the  flexors,  which  raise  it  from  the 
ground  by  contracting  it ;  then  the  extensors  straighten 
it  and  carry  it  forward.  This  is  the  first  half  of  the 
movement. 

At  the  word  of  command,  "  March,"  the  centre  of 
gravity  at  once  passes  to  the  right  leg,  the  body  bends 
toward  the  extended  foot,  which  falls  to  the  ground, 
and  you  have  made  a  step.  You  see  it  is  a  very  simple 
affair. 

The  body,  now  balancing  on  the  left  foot,  lifts  up  the 

heel  of  the  right  one,  which,  touching  the  ground  only 

by  the  toes,  is  quite  ready  io  move.     The  flexors  raise 

it,  the  extensors  throw  it  forward.     The  centre  of  gra- 

(172) 


MOVEMENTS   OF  THE  HUMAN  BODY.  173 

vity  returns  to  it :  it  falls,  and  the  whole  process  recom- 
mences. You  can  walk  thirty  miles  in  this  way,  pro- 
vided your  legs  are  sufficiently  strong. 

Thus  you  see,  as  I  have  already  told  you,  that  the 
flexors  and  extensors  kindly  divide  the  work,  and  you 
understand,  do  you  not  ?  how  it  is  less  fatiguing  to  walk 
than  to  stand  still,  a  simple  fact,  which  many  people  will 
hardly  be  convinced  of.  It  is  not,  however,  the  less 
true,  that  every  step  we  take  is  a  fall,  and  that  it  is  only 
by  a  succession  of  falls  that  we  are  able  to  advance. 
This  is  by  no  means  flattering  to  our  vanity,  but  what 
does  that  signify  if  we  really  make  progress  ? 

This  continual  oscillation  of  the  centre  of  gravity, 
which  perpetually  changes  from  one  leg  to  the  other, 
gives  a  regular  motion  to  the  body  while  walking, 
especially  observable  in  sailors,  who,  accustomed  to 
walk  upon  movable  floors,  instinctively  walk  with  their 
legs  considerably  apart,  so  as  to  enlarge  their  basis  of 
support.  Consequently,  on  shore,  they  have  a  rolling 
walk,  which  is  far  from  being  graceful,  and  as  by  sepa- 
rating their  legs  their  steps  are  shorter,  the  result  natu- 
rally is,  that  sailors  are  in  general  bad  walkers.  But 
they  resume  their  superiority  at  sea,  and  those  who  walk 
well  on  shore  would  be  only  too  happy  when  on  the 
deep,  and  in  a  ship  which  rolls  with  the  waves,  to  pos- 
sess the  sailor's  free  step. 

Another  consequence  of  this  oscillating  movement  is, 
that  the  right  side  of  the  body,  being  habitually  stronger 
than  the  left,  and  thus  at  every  step  gaining  an  additional 
impulse  in  advance  of  the  other  side,  we  should,  without 
knowing  it,  if  the  eye  did  not  guide  us,  walk  obliquely 
toward  the  left,  to  continue  the  language  of  the  drill- 
sergeant,  language  which  does  not  require  explanation. 
For  this  reason,  nicely  would  he  be  taken  in,  who,  walk- 


174  MOVEMENTS   OF  THE  HUMAN    BODY. 

ing  in  the  dark,  fancied  he  was  keeping  in  a  straight 
line. 

This  brings  to  my  mind  a  souvenir  of  my  youth — a  long 
grass-plat  in  the  Park  at  Versailles,  called  the  "  tapis 
vert "  (green  carpet),  and  which  is  in  front  of  the  lake 
known  as  "  La  piece  d'eau  des  Suisses :" — all  who  frequent 
the  gardens  at  Versailles  must  be  well  acquainted  with  it. 
I  do  not  know  if  the  Parisians  of  the  present  day  keep 
up  this  game  of  the  golden  age,  but  formerly  it  was  not 
uncommon  on  fete  days  to  see  the  good  folks  set  off,  with 
their  eyes  bandaged,  from  one  end  of  the  tapis  vert, 
with  the  intention  of  walking  to  the  other  end.  And  it 
was  seldom,  indeed,  that  any  one  succeeded.  The  igno- 
rant, going  where  the  right  side  shoots  out,  found 
themselves  all  at  once  on  the  sidewalk  to  the  left ;  the 
knowing  ones,  who  had  heard  that  the  danger  lay  in 
going  to  the  left,  forcibly  turned  from  that  side,  and 
arrived  victoriously  at  the  sidewalk  to  the  right !  So 
true  it  is  that  there  is  nothing  like  seeing  clearly  for 
keeping  you  on  the  straight  path,  and  that  a  blind  guide 
is  always  a  bad  one. 

What  I  lately  told  you  about  the  kindly  division  of 
labor  between  the  flexors  and  extensors  only  holds  good 
whilst  walking  upon  level  ground  :  the  moment  you  be- 
gin to  climb,  this  equality  disappears  ;  then  it  was  only 
necessary  for  the  body  to  proceed  from  one  fall  to  an- 
other, now  it  has  to  foe  lifted  up  at  every  step,  and  of 
this  the  poor  extensors  have  the  whole  burden. 

Observe  as  you  go  up  stairs  : — 

As  soon  as  you  have  placed  one  foot  on  the  first  step, 
the  foot  left  behind,  below  its  companion, 'does  as  you 
do  when  measuring  your  height  with  a  friend  who  is 
taller  than  you  are,  it  rises  on  the  point,  elevating  its 
own  side  as  well  as  it  can,  to  put  itself  on  a  level  with 


MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  HUMAN  BODY.       175 

the  other.  This  work  is  performed  by  the  extensors  of 
the  foot.  They  are  in  the  calf  of  the  leg,  as  you  know, 
and  their  contraction  draws  up  our  old  friend  the  cal- 
caneum,  or  heel-bone,  which  in  rising  pushes  the  tibia 
before  it,  with  all  which  it  supports.  At  this  moment 
the  body  is  carried  forward  on  the  more  advanced  leg, 
which,  by  stiffening,  thanks  to  the  extensors,  completely 
raises  it  up.  On  this  occasion  it  is  above  the  knee 
where  the  work  is  done,  and  if  you  place  your  hand 
there  at  this  moment,  you  will  feel  how  rigid  the  muscles 
of  the  fibres  become,  in  order  to  replace  the  tibia  and 
the  femur  on  the  same  level. 

What  renders  the  effort  more  necessary  is,  that  the 
centre  of  gravity  must  be  drawn,  cost  what  it  may,  on 
to  this  line,  for  it  is  the  moment  when  the  foot  lowest 
down  the  stair  is  about  to  be  raised  from  the  ground  to 
join  its  companion ;  and  the  same  thing  takes  place 
whether  you  ascend  by  single  steps,  or,  as  some  big  girls 
do,  by  two  at  a  time.  The  same  series  of  efforts  recom- 
mences at  every  step  ;  and  if  your  room  happens  to  be 
on  the  sixth  story,  you  will  probably  feel  rather  tired 
on  arriving  there.  Now,  where  do  you  feel  this  fatigue, 
if  you  please  ?  Even  if  you  did  not  know  by  experience, 
you  could  guess  it  from  what  we  have  just  told  you.  It 
is  in  the  calf,  and  the  knee,  but  more  especially  in  the 
latter,  since  here  the  greatest  strain  is  made  on  the  centre 
of  gravity.  Moreover,  the  upper  part  of  the  body  re- 
quires to  bend  well  forward,  to  render  the  operation 
easier,  and  in  ascending  a  mountain  a  person  naturally 
assumes  this  position,  without  it  being  necessary  to  tell 
him  to  do  so  ;  in  fact,  if  the  ascent  is  very  long,  he  will 
at  last  almost  bend  himself  double.  Try  to  go  up  stairs 
whilst  holding  yourself  very  upright ;  your  knee  will 
bitterly  complain  before  you  have  reached  the  first  story ; 


176  MOVEMENTS   OF  THE  HUMAN  BODY. 

or,  rather,  be  prudent — take  my  word  for  it — and  do 
not  try.  The  least  accident  which  would  retard  the 
centre  of  gravity,  after  losing  its  support  below,  would 
make  you  fall  backward,  and  your  mother  would  never 
forgive  me. 

Well !  you  are  up  stairs  at  last ;  now  you  have  to  go 
down  again.  Here  the  extensors  of  the  calf  and  knee 
have  only  playwork  to  do — it  is  a  mere  nothing  that  is 
required  of  them.  It  is  gravitation  that  manages  the 
whole,  and,  if  allowed,  the  work  would  progress  only 
too  rapidly.  One  may  truly  say  of  this  movement,  that 
one  advances  by  a  series  of  falls,  and  the  only  effort 
necessary  is  to  see  that  the  centre  of  gravity  does  not 
advance  further  forward  than  the  feet.  You  may  have 
seen  coachmen,  when  driving  down  a  steep  hill,  pulling 
back  the  reins  to  hold  in  the  horses.  The  coachman 
in  this  instance  is  the  bundle  of  strong  muscles  we 
have  in  our  loins  ;  they  are  placed  just  behind  the  steed, 
who  would  like  nothing  better  than  to  break  away  •  and 
they  contract  right  over  him,  to  bring  him  back  to  them. 
The  upper  part  of  the  body,  which  a  short  time  ago 
bent  forward,  in  order  to  assist  the  loins,  now  bends 
back,  to  aid  them  in  taking  its  weight  upon  themselves. 
And  I  would  still  less  advise  you  to  try  putting  your 
head  forward  while  descending  the  stairs,  than  leaning 
it  back  while  ascending.  I  really  do  not  know  why  I 
have  spoken  to  you  about  this,  as  I  am  very  sure  you 
never  thought  of  doing  such  a  thing. 

You  may,  however,  possibly  have  thought  of  running 
down  stairs  ;  if  so,  I  beg  of  you  never  again  to  do  it. 
Remember  how  very  tyrannical  are  the  laws  of  motion 
over  bodies  once  on  the  move.  Your  own  body,  after  it 
is  set  going,  no  longer  belongs  to  you.  You  may  have 
the  misfortune  to  lose  your  equilibrium  by  a  mere  trifle, 


MOVEMENTS  OP  THE  HUMAN  BODY.       177 

and,  instead  of  stopping  to  give  you  time  to  recover 
yourself,  the  motion  within  you,  indifferent  as  to  whether 
your  arms  or  legs  are  broken,  carries  the  little  machine 
rolling  down  to  the  foot  of  the  staircase,  always  accele- 
rating its  speed,  like  the  ball  falling  to  the  ground  ;  and 
if  you  are  bruised  on  arriving  at  the  bottom  step,  whose 
fault  is  it? 

But  we  will  not  think  of  this  any  longer.  A  sensible 
girl,  who  knows  the  laws  of  motion  and  their  pitiless 
rigour,  will  avoid  trifling  with  them,  or  fail  in  paying 
the  respect  she  owes  to  her  centre  of  gravity,  by  making 
it  gallop  when  it  simply  wishes  to  walk. 

We  say  then  that  the  work  is  performed  by  the  loins 
when  we  descend.  You  cannot  therefore  wonder  that 
the  loins  are  tired  when  you  have  been  walking  down- 
hill for  a  long  time.  The  calves  of  the  leg  and  knees,  on 
the  contrary,  which  have  had  nothing  to  do,  are  fresh  and 
active,  and  a  person  who  reaches  the  base  of  a  mountain, 
worn  out  with  fatigue,  is  quite  surprised,  if  he  does  not 
know  the  reason,  at  finding  himself  rested  as  if  by  magic 
on  the  level  road,  although  he  is  still  walking.  He  has 
changed  horses,  like  a  post-chaise,  and  these  are  fresh 
steeds  which  carry  him  on. 

One  word  more  about  the  step.  If  your  papa  has 
sometimes  let  you  ride  upon  his  knee,  you  must  be  ac- 
quainted with  the  three  different  paces,  trot,  canter,  gal- 
lop. It  is  about  the  last  of  these  three  that  I  am  going 
to  speak.  The  gallop  is  done  by  lengthening  the  step  as 
much  as  possible.  You  will  perhaps  recollect  that  before 
long  your  knees  and  calves  grew  very  tired,  just  as  if 
you  were  climbing.  Do  you  know  why  this  was  ?  It 
was  simply  because  you  were  climbing  the  whole  time. 

Take  your  scissors,  and  make  them  go  through  the 
three  steps,  first  the  trot,  opening  the  points  a  very  little 
8* 


178  MOVEMENTS   OF   THE   HUMAN   BODY. 

way,  then  the  canter,  opening  them  a  little  wider,  then 
the  gallop,  opening  them  as  wide  as  you  can.  In  pro- 
portion to  the  separation  between  the  two  points,  you 
will  notice  that  the  scissors  descend.  This  is  precisely 
what  you  do  when  you  stretch  out  your  legs  ;  your  height 
is  depressed,  and  as  you  take  back  your  full  stature  each 
time  the  legs  are  brought  to  the  same  level,  the  muscles 
which  have  the  care  of  raising  the  body  have  exactly  the 
same  duty  to  perform  as  when  you  walk  up-stairs. 

I  have  taken  a  long  time  to  teach  one,  my  dear  little 
child,  who  can  trot  along  so  well  as  you  can,  how  to  walk. 
When  you  are  older  you  will  hear  of  a  celebrated  writer 
of  comedies  named  Moliere,  who  was  also  a  great  philo- 
sopher, although  he  used  to  philosophise  in  a  jesting 
manner,  which,  after  all,  is  not  a  bad  way  of  doing. 
Whilst  telling  you  all  this,  I  am  forcibly  reminded  of  a 
character  in  one  of  Moliere's  plays,  a  Monsieur  Jourdain, 
who  is  told  how  he  pronounces  a  and  o  and  re  and  da 
and  fa,  and  he  is  delighted  at  the  information,  but,  as  his 
servant  says,  he  speaks  none  the  better  for  it,  and  I  ask 
myself  whether  I  have  not  been  playing  the  part  of  this 
individual's  master  of  philosophy  toward  you. 

It  is  very  certain  that  the  first  time  you  tumble,  all . 
the  notions  I  have  just  given  you  about  the  centre  of 
gravity,  etc.,  will  be  of  little  use  in  helping  you,  but  one 
would  be  very  wrong  if  one  only  cared  to  see  an  imme- 
diate use  for  what  we  learn.  Knowledge  is  not  always 
available.  We  cannot  eat  it,  it  will  not  clothe  us,  we 
cannot  put  it  in  a  shop  for  sale,  nor  can  we  shut  it  up  in 
a  box,  or  make  a  present  of  it ;  nevertheless,  without  it 
what  would  become  of  us  ?  To  accustom  one's  self  to 
understand  clearly  what  one  does  is  one  of  the  most  use- 
ful things  in  the  world.  I  have  already  said,  that  it  is 
the  true  way  to  walk  erect  through  life :  you  have  not 


MOVEMENTS   OF   THE   HUMAN   BODY.  179 

yet  attained  to  this  point,  but  you  will  do  so  some  day  ; 
and,  setting  aside  all  other  considerations,  you  will  not 
be  sorry,  when  you  have  little  children  of  your  own  to 
teach  to  walk,  that  you  understand  how  they  learn  to 
take  their  first  steps. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  MOVEMENTS — (Continued.) 

IF  I  had  a  scholar  fifty  years  of  age,  I  should  scarcely 
require  to  proceed  further  with  the  history  of  the  move- 
ments. The  explanation  of  the  step  would  no  doubt  be 
sufficient  for  his  special  use.  But  with  a  young  lady, 
who  is  continually  running  and  jumping,  I  can  scarcely 
stop  there.  Running  and  jumping  are  both  interesting 
subjects,  of  which  it  would  be  a  pity  not  to  speak. 

Running  is  properly  speaking,  merely  a  series  of  suc- 
cessive leaps.  I  must  therefore  begin  by  speaking  of 
leaping. 

Would  you  like  to  see  with  your  own  eyes  how  a  leap 
is  made?  It  is  very  easy.  I  will  teach  you  a  game 
which  amused  me  when  I  was — well,  I  will  not  say  how 
old. 

Take  a  strip  of  rather  firm  paper,  and  roll  it  between 
your  fingers  into  the  form  of  a  tube.  This  tube  will  be 
composed  of  a  series  of  spiral  rings  which  you  can 
tighten  or  loosen  at  will.  Leave  them  sufficiently  loose 
to  slip  one  within  another,  press  the  tube  on  the  table, 
holding  it  by  the  top,  and  when  it  has  become  quite  short, 
like  a  shut-up  telescope,  open  your  fingers  suddenly  ;  the 
tube  will  then  jump  into  the  air,  and  rise  pretty  high, 
provided  you  manage  this  cleverly.* 

What  renders  it  so  active  ? 

*  By  drying  the  tube  thoroughly,  either  near  the  fire  or  in  the 
sun,  it  can  be  made  to  jump  to  a  far  greater  height. 

(180) 


MOVEMENTS   OP   THE   HUMAN   BODY.  181 

•  It  is  the  elasticity  of  the  spiral  rings,  which  are  like 
so  many  compressed  springs.  They  make  an  effort  to 
return  to  their  former  position,  and  when  you  open  your 
fingers,  which  hold  the  tube  captive,  taking  the  table, 
which  repels  them,  as  the  basis  of  support,  they  dart 
forth,  carrying  the  plaything  into  the  air. 

Kecollect  now  what  you  do,  when  you  wish  to  jump 
with  both  feet  together.  You  begin  by  bending  your 
loins  and  knees  as  much  as  you  can.  This  is  the  work 
of  the  flexors,  and  you  represent  the  little  shut-up  tube. 
Then  all  at  once  the  extensors  come  into  play,  the 
body  draws  itself  up  quickly  while  pressing  the  ground, 
and  the  motion  thus  given  launches  you  into  the  air, 
exactly  as  if  you  were  a  strip  of  paper.  • 

Only,  as  comparisons  can  never  be  exact  between 
things  so  very  different  as  your  body  and  our  little  pa- 
per toy,  the  spring  which  carried  you  forward  is  much 
more  complicated. 

Bend  one  of  the  bits  of  whalebone,  always  to  be  found 
in  a  lady's  dress,  by  the  two  ends,  in  the  form  of  a  bow, 
and  then  suddenly  let  go — the  bone  will  dart  forward, 
dragged  on  by  the  two  ends,  which  hasten  to  resume 
their  natural  position. 

We  have  a  bow  in  us  which  straightens  itself  when 
we  leap.  It  is  the  vertebral  column.  Mark  well  what 
you  do  in  this  case.  You  not  only  bend  your  limbs,  but 
also  your  body,  and  both  straighten  themselves  at  the 
same  time,  the  moment  you  spring.  The  vertebral  arch 
then  makes  a  start,  the  rebound  of  which  acts  upon 
the  loins,  just  behind  the  centre  of  gravity,  which  it 
propels  forward. 

But  this  is  not  all. 

What  do  you  do  when  you  want  to  jump  a  little  dis- 
tance ?  You  first  balance  your  arms  backward  and  for- 


182  MOVEMENTS   OF   THE   HUMAN   BODY. 

ward  several  times,  and  then  throw  them  forward  with 
all  your  strength,  at  the  very  moment  you  make  your 
spring. 

What  have  you  now  done  ? 

You  have  called  to  your  assistance  that  terrible  law 
of  motion  which  smashes  a  railway  train  if  stopped  sud- 
denly ;  you  have  developed  in  the  upper  part  of  your 
body,  by  balancing  your  arms,  the  germ  of  movement,  if 
I  may  thus  express  myself.  It  becomes  serious  when 
you  throw  your  arms  forward,  and  all  the  body  works 
together  from  head  to  foot — to  carry  itself  forward  be- 
low, by  the  stiffening  and  straightening  of  the  legs  ;  in 
the  middle,  by  the  vertebral  column  ;  in  the  upper  part 
by  the  jerk  of  the  arms,  which  draw  on  the  shoulders,  as 
a  pair  of  horses  draw  a  carriage  forward. 

How  many  things  are  connected  with  a  little  leap  of 
two  or  three  feet !  But,  my  dear  child,  this  involves  a 
fact  of  much  more  serious  import  than  the  act  of  walk- 
ing. There  you  struggle,  it  is  true,  against  that  tyrrani- 
cal  love  of  the  earth,  which  wishes  to  have  you  whether 
you  will  or  no.  But  you  struggle  whilst  making  the  earth 
your  support,  and  the  feet  are  responsible  for  the  rest  of 
the  body,  of  which  they  bear  all  the  weight.  Here 
you  perform  an  absolutely  independent  act ;  you  aban- 
don every  basis  of  support  in  effecting  the  movement, 
and  it  requires  the  unanimous  concurrence  of  every 
member  of  a  body  as  heavy  as  yours  is,  if  you  wish 
to  shake  off  the  yoke  entirely.  Try  to  jump  while 
throwing  your  arms  back,  and  you  will  see  whether  the 
lower  part  of  your  body  could  go  far  without  the  assis- 
tance of  the  upper  part.  I  do  not  propose  that  you 
should  try  to  jump  by  throwing  the  upper  part  of  your 
body  forward  without  taking  any  trouble  about  the 
lower  part.  It  is  quite  clear  one  might  manage  in  this 


MOVEMENTS   OF   THE   HUMAN   BODY.  183 

way  to  break  one's  nose,  and,  in  short,  no  one   ever 
thought  of  trying  it. 

But  we  have  not  yet  done  with  leaping. 

Have  you  ever  seen  people  dance  on  the  tight-rope  ? 
I  ask  you  this  question,  because  it  is  an  art  which  is 
gradually  disappearing,  notwithstanding  the  feats  of  its 
latest  performers  ;  nor  is  this,  in  my  opinion,  to  be  re- 
gretted. These  artists  at  all  times  enjoy  a  singular 
privilege.  They  spring  in  the  air  much  higher  than 
other  people,  their  bodies  straight  as  an  arrow,  without 
apparently  owing  anything  to  the  vertebral  arch  or  to 
the  extensors.  Still,  assuredly,  they  are  not  sorcerers  ; 
for  these  no  longer  exist. 

Another  agent  is  here  at  work,  as  well  as  the  body. 
The  rope  on  which  the  dancer  jails  gives  way  with  his 
weight,  and  then  it  also  rights  itself  in  its  turn.  The 
shock  which  it  gives  to  the  feet  resting  on  it,  when  it 
straightens  again,  sends  the  dancer  back  into  the  air, 
as  it  would  throw  back  a  beam  that  might  fall  upon 
it  in  place  of  him.  Henceforth  there  is  nothing  more 
to  do,  and  the  springs  succeed  one  another  without 
further  fatigue  to  the  artist,  except  that  of  scrupulously 
maintaining  the  centre  of  gravity  vertical  with  the 
cord.  Besides,  this  is  quite  enough  to  attend  to,  when 
one  considers  the  unpleasant  prospect  the  poor  man 
has  before  him,  if  he  miss  his  mark.  I  do  not  sympa- 
thise with  people  who  are  pleased  with  this  kind  of 
amusement. 

Whilst  we  are  speaking  of  feats  of  strength,  I  must 
explain  those  wonderful  springs  to  you  that  are  made  at 
the  circus,  to  the  great  amazement  of  the  simple,  and  by 
which  a  man  can  jump  over  a  platoon  of  soldiers  shoul- 
dering arms,  with  fixed  bayonets.  These  are  called  the 
exercises  of  the  spring-board — and  what  then  is  a  spring- 


184  MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  HUMAN  BODY. 

board  ?  It  is  a  flexible  plank,  elevated  at  one  end,  upon 
which  the  jumper  falls  from  above,  when  he  wishes  to 
astonish  the  spectators  by  making  a  marvellous  leap. 
The  plank  acts  like  the  dancer's  tight  rope,  and  all 
the  honor  of  the  feat  would  be  due  to  it,  if  it  were 
not  also  necessary  that  the  human  projectile  should 
know  how  to  make  use  of  it.  We  must  be  just  to 
every  one. 

You  also,  my  little  friend,  without  being  one  whit 
more  knowing  than  the  heroes  of  the  circus,  you  make 
much  less  preparation  for  a  jump,  and  you  jump  much 
further  into  the  bargain,  when  you  take  a  run  before 
you  spring,  and  the  reason  of  this  is  quite  simple.  Grav- 
itation and  motion  are,  as  I  have  often  told  you,  two 
rival  powers  which  dispute  the  body,  and,  whenever  one 
establishes  itself,  the  other  disappears,  or,  to  speak  more 
correctly,  is  annulled  ;  for  it  is  a  tenacious  guest,  and 
will  not  allow  itself  to  be  turned  out  of  doors.  In  run- 
ning, you  put  yourself  in  motion,  and  this  motion  would 
carry  you  on  alone  quite  well  if  the  feet  stopped  sud- 
denly. You  had  some  experience  of  this,  when  foolishly 
racing  with  your  little"  friends  through  the  beds  of  the 
kitchen  garden  ;  your  feet  became  entangled  in  the  gar- 
dener's measuring-line,  and  your  head  continuing  its 
course,  without  asking  your  leave,  popped  into  a  bed  of 
lettuce,  which,  happily  for  you,  had  been  newly  weeded. 
He,  then,  who  springs  while  in  the  act  of  running,  already 
possesses  an  acquired  speed,  as  it  is  called,  almost  suffi- 
cient to  effect  the  leap  ;  he  has,  as  it  were,  only  to  strike 
the  earth  with  his  foot  to  enable  him  to  take  flight.  And 
now  see  what  is  to  be  gained  by  bestirring  one's  self. 
One  gathers  strength  while  journeying  along. 

After  all,  running  is,  as  I  have  already  told  you,  mere- 
ly a  succession  of  jumps.  It  essentially  differs  from 


MOVEMENTS   OF   THE   HUMAN   BODY.  185 

walking,  since,  in  the  running  step,  the  foot  left  behind 
leaves  the  ground  before  the  one  in  front  has  secured  its 
basis  of  support ;  the  body  therefore  finds  itself,  as  in 
jumping,  supported  in  the  air  by  the  power  of  motion 
alone.  This  rapid  pace  can  naturally  only  be  acquired  by 
considerable  effort.  I  have  told  you  before,  when  speak- 
ing of  the  "  work  of  the  organs,"  *  how  much  the  heart 
and  lungs  are  engaged  at  such  times,  and  how  they  will 
at  last  succumb  to  their  task  when  the  race  becomes  too 
prolonged.  It  is  on  this  account  that  good  runners, 
when  they  wish  to  accomplish  a  long  distance,  throw 
their  shoulders  well  back,  and  straighten  the  upper  part 
of  the  body,  so  as  to  enlarge  the  chest  by  widening  the 
ribs,  and  thus  securing  the  action  of  their  muscles,  by 
rendering  the  basis  to  which  they  look  for  support  as 
firm  as  possible. 

There  is  also  another  reason  for  drawing  back  the 
shoulders,  a  reason  which  is  instinctively  felt  by  the 
greatest  novice  in  the  art  of  running.  We  have  seen  in 
the  chapter  on  "  the  Attitudes,'7  the  watchfulness  which 
must  be  ever  in  exercise  over  the  centre  of  gravity, 
always  so  imprudently  inclined  to  cross  the  barrier  be- 
yond which  lies  a  fall.  This  temptation  is  much  strong- 
er when  the  body,  carried  forward  by  its  rapid  career  in 
the  direction  of  danger,  seems  only,  as  one  may  say,  to 
skim  the  ground  with  the  ends  of  the  toes.  I  beg  you 
to  notice,  if  you  have  not  already  done  so,  that  we  never 
place  the  foot  flat  upon  the  ground  in  running,  as  we  do 
in  walking  ;  this  would  occupy  too  much  time.  It  falls 
on  the  toes  to  rebound  immediately.  Those  persons  who 
in  ordinary  life  feel  that  they  are  not  well  protected,  re- 
double their  precautions,  and  the  body  does  the  same  in 
running.  It  throws  itself  backward,  and  while  I  call 
*  See  "  History  of  a  Mouthful  of  Bread,"  p.  200. 


188  MOVEMENTS  OP  THE   HUMAN  BODY. 

your  attention  to  these  things,  notice  them  yourself  when 
you  run.  The  faster  you  go,  the  more  your  head  and 
shoulders  bend  backward,  to  counterpoise  the  lower  part 
of  your  body,  whose  chance  of  losing  its  equilibrium  in- 
creases with  the  rapidity  of  the  race. 

It  is  also  to  act  as  a  counterpoise  that  our  arms  swing 
backward  and  forward  with  'an  inverse  motion  to  our 
legs,  the  arm  at  one  side  going  back  at  the  same  moment 
that  the  leg  of  the  same  side  comes  forward.  An  equil- 
ibrium is  thus  more  easily  maintained,  and  the  centre 
point  of  gravity,  which  governs  the  whole,  is  brought 
back  each  time  to  the  basis  which  it  cannot  abandon 
without  ruin  to  the  edifice. 

You  see  that  in  order  to  run  many  precautions  have 
to  be  adopted.  Nature  takes  them  for  us  when  we  are 
ignorant  of  them,  and,  quite  unknown  to  us,  our  body 
arranges  itself  as  the  laws  which  rule  it  desire.  But 
this  does  not  dispense  with  our  becoming  acquainted 
with  these  laws.  A  mind  that  has  any  respect  for 
itself  would  feel  ashamed  to  know  less  than  the  mere  in- 
strument of  its  will. 

There  are  many  things  I  could  still  tell  you,  my  dear 
child,  about  the  working  of  this  "  walking  machine/7 1 
cannot  return  to  our  old  term  without  a  feeling  of  pleas- 
ure, the  study  of  which  has  already  occupied  so  much 
time,  and  cost  so  much  trouble,  at  least,  to  myself.  I 
trust  it  has  not  been  the  same  with  you.  All  things 
considered,  I  think  enough  has  been  said.  If  I  should 
try  to  make  you  too  learned,  I  should  only  be  laughed 
at  for  my  pains.  Not  that  this  is  anything  very  terrible, 
we  must  not  always  be  afraid  of  being  laughed  at,  but  I 
might  perhaps  end  by  wearying  you,  and  of  that  I  am 
always  afraid. 


MOVEMENTS   OF   THE   HUMAN   BODY.  187 

You  now  know  from  top  to  bottom  the  framework  of 
the  walls  of  the  house  you  inhabit,  to  borrow  the  expres- 
sion of  an  English  author,  a  far  more  wonderful  house 
than  any  king's  palace,  since  it  walks,  and  the  walls  are 
living.  It  remains  for  us  to  study  the  more  curious 
part,  but  unfortunately  also  the  most  difficult  for  the 
mind  to  take  in ;  the  power  which  makes  it  walk,  the  in- 
visible breath  which  causes  its  walls  to  palpitate.  We 
approach  the  great  mystery  of  life.  Most  certainly  I 
cannot  explain  it  to  you,  but  you  may  at  least  learn 
in  what  it  consists,  and  what  more  can  one  know  of  a 
mystery  ? 

Before  leaving  this  world  of  bones  and  muscles,  whose 
difficulties  appear  to  me  like  child's  play  compared  with 
that  on  which  we  are  about  to  enter,  I  wish  you  to  carry 
away  with  you  one  useful  reflection. 

You  have  observed  the  solicitude  with  which  your 
body  constantly  watches  over  its  equilibrium,  how,  if  I 
may  so  express  myself,  it  exercises  its  wits,  how  it  in- 
rents,  how  it  endeavors,  how  it  expends  science  and 
will  to  maintain  itself  erect  upon  its  basis  of  support. 
Do  not  permit  your  soul  to  do  less  to  preserve  its  up- 
rightness. It  is  also  called  to  rise  toward  heaven,  and, 
like  the  body,  it  has  its  struggles  to  sustain,  with  the 
attractions  of  earth.  Pride  and  earthly  yearnings,  the 
lusts  and  appetites  of  the  flesh,  constantly  tempt  it  to 
stoop  to  things  below  ;  and  it  would  soon  lose  sight  of 
the  higher  regions  of  honor  and  devotion,  which  are  its 
heaven,  if  it  ceased  to  hold  itself  steadily  on  its  basis  of 
support.  Now  this  basis  allows  no  one  to  balance  him- 
self upon  it.  It  is  the  conscience  which  we  are  forbid- 
den to  force,  under  penalty  of  rendering  it  useless.  On 
this  account  you  must  pay  great  attention,  and  call  to 
your  assistance  all  the  helps  you  possess,  in  the  shape  of 


188  MOVEMENTS   OP   THE  HUMAN  BODY. 

knowledge  and  will,  to  keep  you  straight  on  the  inflex- 
ible line  of  conscience.  On  this  account,  be  indulgent 
to  the  faults  of  others.  When  a  poor  man  has  fallen 
down  on  the  pavement,  every  one  tries  to  give  him  a 
hand,  and  if  he  has  hurt  himself,  every  one  hastens  to 
lift  him  up.  Do  not  forget,  my  child,  when  you  are 
grown  up,  that  you  must  deal  gently  and  helpfully  with 
fallen  souls,  for  there  are  none  more  deeply  to  be  pitied, 
since  the  sorrow  they  work  for  themselves  is  the  great- 
est that  can  be  imagined. 

And  in  the  meantime,  endeavor  to  fall  down  as  seldom 
as  possible,  and  if  any  one  tumbles  near  you,  whether 
brother,  sister  or  companion,  assist  him  or  her  to  rise, 
like  a  good  little  girl,  without  giving  yourself  any  airs  ; 
otherwise  take  care  of  yourself,  for,  however  firm  you 
may  imagine  your  equilibrium  to  be,  the  centre  of  grav- 
ity is  always  exposed  to  mischances  where  the  heart  is 
not  in  the  right  place. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

ELECTRICITY. 

ELECTRICITY  !  You  will  imagine,  in  reading  this  word, 
that  we  are  losing  sight  of  the  subject  which  we  ought 
next  to  study  ;  viz.,  the  nerves  and  brain.  But  I  have 
not  lost  sight  of  it,  I  only  wish  to  prepare  your  mind 
to  comprehend  as  much  as  can  be  comprehended  about 
them. 

I  recollect  an  idea  which  pleased  me  greatly,  many 
years  ago,  when  I  undertook  the  duties  of  Professor  of 
Natural  Science  to  some  young  ladies.  It  occurred  to 
me  that  man,  being  placed  in  the  highest  rank  of  crea- 
tion, all  its  own  known  laws  would  naturally  centre  in 
him,  and  he  being  thus,  as  it  were,  an  epitome  of  the 
whole,  the  explanation  of  these  laws,  as  exhibited  in 
him,  would  make  their  action  elsewhere  sufficiently  plain. 
Setting  out  with  this  idea  in  mind,  to  which  I  have 
already  alluded  in  the  beginning  of  the  history  of  the 
movements,  I  wished  to  limit  my  entire  course  of  natural 
science  to  the  explanation  of  the  human  body,  reserving 
to  myself  the  right  of  becoming  discursive  by  the  way, 
when  it  might  become  necessary  to  make  you  understand 
the  phenomena  we  might  meet  with.  I  have  been  com- 
pelled to  relinquish  this  plan,  because,  I  acknowledge  it 
without  blushing,  I  have  found  the  execution  too  difficult 
for  myself,  and,  I  may  say,  for  my  pupils  also. 

You  must  have  already  noticed  since  we  began  our 
conversation  on  the  life  of  man,  that  I  have  often  been 

(189) 


ELECTRICITY. 

obliged  to  introduce  other  topics  than  the  human  body, 
in  order  not  to  leave  the  most  interesting  points  in  its 
history  in  obscurity. 

Could  you  have  understood  anything  of  the  mechan- 
ism of  the  lungs,  if  I  had  not  informed  you  what  was 
meant  by  atmospheric  pressure  ?  *  or  of  the  results  of 
respiration^  without  my  little  lesson  on  oxygen,  and  its 
marriage  with  the  body  ?  Did  not  our  study  of  the  sub- 
ject of  animal  heat  oblige  us  to  make  acquaintance  with 
hydrogen  and  carbon  ?  and  did  not  the  composition  of 
the  blood  require  us  to  touch  on  chemistry  ?  This  sub- 
ject we  should  have  thoroughly  explored,  had  we  been 
capable  of  doing  so.  And  again,  not  long  ago,  in  speaking 
of  the  movements,  we  were  obliged  to  branch  off  into 
dynamics,!  a  word  that  would  have  frightened  your 
mother  on  your  account  if  I  had  let  it  slip.  When  we 
come  to  describe  the  eye,  we  must,  whether  we  like  it  or 
no,  speak  to  you  of  light,  and  optics,^;  as  natural  philoso- 
phers term  it.  When  we  arrive  at  the  ear,  we  shall 
then  have  to  study  the  laws  of  sound,  or  acoustics,§  as 
they  are  called.  We  shall,  however,  only  touch  on 
these  subjects,  since  that  will  be  sufficient  for  you  :  we 
should  go  deeper  into  them  if  we  intended  to  study  them 
thoroughly. 

You  can  now  see  that  the  study  of  the  human  body 
touches  on  everything,  and  that  whoever  completely 
masters  it,  knows  all  there  is  to  know  of  physical 
laws.  What  I  have  just  said  may  seem  to  you  a  little 
strong,  but  it  is  weak  when  compared  with  the  expression 

*  See  "  Mouthful  of  Bread,"  p.  139. 

f  Dynamics  in  Greek  means  power.     Dynamics  is  the  study  o  f 
force,  or  power  with  regard  to  motion  effected  by  it. 
%  From  the  Greek  word  "  opsis,"  signifying  vision. 
§  From  the  Greek  word  "  acous,"  I  hear. 


ELECTRICITY.  191 

of  Pascal,  where  he  says,  "  He  who  thoroughly  under- 
stands a  grain  of  sand  understands  the  universe."  And 
Pascal  was  right ;  whence  I  conclude  that  I  need  not 
feel  alarmed  at  the  boldness  of  my  own  expression. 

But  all  this  will  not  interest  you.  Let  us  now  speak 
of  electricity. 

You  know  the  yellow  amber  used  by  men  as  mouth- 
pieces for  their  pipes,  and  by  the  women  of  the  East  for 
their  necklaces,  which  I  fancy  would  be  much  admired 
in  our  own  country,  if  they  were  only  more  expensive. 
When  next  you  see  a  piece  of  this  substance,  so  soft  to 
the  eye  and  touch,  I  recommend  it  to  your  notice,  for 
with  it  originated  the  idea  of  the  electric  telegraph. 
Moreover,  its  own  merits  sufficiently  recommend  it  to 
the  attention  of  inquiring  minds,  for  it  is  one  of  the  an- 
tiquities of  the  globe.  It  is  derived  from  the  resin  of 
old  pines,  which  grew  long  before  the  era  of  man,  in  the 
forests  of  the  North  of  Europe,  and  from  time  immemo- 
rial it  has  been'  fished  for — for  it  is  really  a  fishery — 
along  the  shores  of  the  Baltic,  the  waves  of  which  tear  it 
from  its  bed,  by  breaking  up  the  sand  beneath  which  it 
lies  buried.  The  ancient  Greeks,  who  were  intrepid 
merchants,  went  to  buy  it  from  the  savage  tribes  on  the 
borders  of  the  Vistula  and  Elbe,  by  sailing  northward 
from  the  Euxine  Sea,*  by  the  great  rivers  of  Scythia.  It 
is  a  great  pity,  we  may  observe  in  passing,  that  not  a 
single  record  of  these  expeditions  has  been  preserved, 
for  undoubtedly  they  must  have  possessed  some.  The 
Greeks  were  far  too  fond  of  narration  to  lose  so  good  an 
opportunity.  In  short,  they  were  well  acquainted  with 
amber,  and  gave  it  the  name  of  electron. 

*  The  Euxine  Sea  of  the  Greeks  is  now  called  the  Black  Sea,  and 
their  Scythia  extended  over  all  the  steppes  of  the.  south  of  Rus- 
sia of  the  present  day. 


192  ELECTRICITY. 

Theophrastes,  who  lived  three  hundred  years  before 
the  Christian  era,  tells  us  that  in  his  time  they  had  re- 
cognized a  singular  property  in  amber,  that  of  attracting 
light  bodies  when  it  is  rubbed.  Rub  a  piece  of  amber, 
and  then  place  it  near  a  bit  of  thread  or  a  fragment  of 
straw,  and  it  will  at  once  fly  toward  it.  This  will  give 
you  an  idea  of  the  trifles  which  lead  men  tp  great  discov- 
eries, and  how  often  the  great  laws  of  nature  may,  so  to 
speak,  lie  within  reach  of  man,  without  his  thinking  of 
extending  his  hand  to  seize  them.  He  who  had  dared 
to  announce  to  the  worshippers  of  Jupiter  Tonans*  that 
the  mystery  of  the  thunderbolt  lay  hidden  there,  in 
this  fragment  of  straw  adhering  to  a  morsel  of  amber, 
would  most  certainly  have  been  taken  for  a  madman  in 
that  age,  and  might  perhaps  have  been  invited  to  drink 
hemlock,  in  company  with  Socrates,  the  despiser  of  the 
gods.  Unhappily,  they  did  not  think  BO  much  instruction 
could  be  concealed  in  a  child's  toy,  and  human  science 
made  no  advance  on  this  point  for  two  thousand  years. 

At  length,  about  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, a  man  appeared  who  thought  of  examining  this 
singular  play  of  the  amber  and  straw,  so  long  considered 
as  merely  an  insignificant  caprice  of  nature,  more  accu- 
rately. It  was  an  English  physician,  Dr.  William  Gil- 
bert, respectfully  termed  by  a  learned  man  of  the  last 
century,  whose  book  I  have  in  my  hand,  the  father  of 
modern  electricity,  and  whom  we  seem  to  lose  sight  of, 
now  that  his  discovery  is  of  world-wide  renown.  Such 
ingratitude  is  by  no  means  uncommon.  For  my  own  part, 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  rank  the  day  on  which  the  English 
physician  rubbed  his  first  bit  of  yellow  amber,  amongst 
the  great  days  of  the  history  of  man,  although  people  take 
no  note  of  it  He  ended  by  discovering  that  this  prop- 

*  Jupiter  the  Thunderer. 


ELECTRICITY.  193 

erty  belonged  to  other  bodies  besides  the  electron  of  the 
Greeks ;  and  to  him  belongs  the  imperishable  glory  of 
giving  the  first  hint.  It  was  soon  perceived  that  we 
were  in  presence  of  an  element,  up  to  that  time  unknown, 
which  was  to  be  found  everywhere,  and  to  it  the  name 
of  electricity  was  given,  in  memory  or  remembrance  of 
the  body  which  had  manifested  it  in  the  first  instance. 
Less  than  a  hundred  years  after  Gilbert,  a  new  science 
was  established,  of  which  I  shall  give  you  a  brief  account. 

Suspend  a  piece  of  paper  by  a  silk  thread  and  then 
put  near  it  a  stick  of  sealing-wax  which  has  been  well 
rubbed.  The  paper  will  fly  toward  the  sealing-wax,  ad- 
here to  it  for  a  moment,  then  will  fly  back,  and  if  you 
pursue  it  with  the  sealing-wax,  it  will  continue  obstinate- 
ly to  recede,  like  two  friends  who  beginning  to  embrace 
each  other  suddenly  quarrel  in  the  midst  of  the  em- 
brace. The  experiment  is  easily  made,  and  it  will  amuse 
you  if  you  try  it. 

Next  take  a  long  and  narrow  vial  or  small  glass  bot- 
tle, so  that  you  can  rub  it  more  easily.  Recommence  the 
play,  and  you  will  have  the  same  results. 

If  afterward,  taking  the  glass  bottle  in  one  hand  and 
the  sealing-wax  in  the  other,  you  place  one  on  each  side 
of  the  bit  of  paper,  you  will  produce  another  effect.  The 
pendent  paper  will  oscillate  from  one  to  the  other,  es- 
caping from  the  wax  after  touching  it,  to  run  toward  the 
bottle,  rushing  from  the  bottle  to  return  to  the  wax,  and 
each  time  adhering*for  a  moment  to  the  new  friend  it  is 
immediately  going  to  desert. 

In  all  this  you  see  nothing  but  a  little  amusement. 
The  immediate  successors  of  Gilbert  might  have  thought 
like  you.  Let  us  do  as  they  did,  and  go  forward. 

An  explanation  must  be  formed  of  these  extraordinary 
movements.     Here  is  what  was  first  supposed. 
9 


194  ELECTRICITY. 

Imagine  two  friends  much  accustomed  to  each  other's 
society.  They  live  peacefully  side  by  side,  happy  to  be 
together,  but  making  no  demonstration.  Separate  them, 
and  they  will  only  think  of  how  they  can  meet  again,  and 
if  they  come  in  sight  of  one  another  they  will  throw 
themselves  with  transport  into  each  other's  arms.  Well, 
in  all  bodies,  there  exists  a  double  electricity,  a  couple 
of  friends  who  say  nothing  when  they  are  together,  and 
whose  presence  we  consequently  forget. 

When  amber,  sealing-wax,  or  any  resinous  substance 
is  rubbed,  one  of  these  two  electricities  disappears,  the 
other  remains  alone.  The  name  of  resinous  electricity 
is  given  to  the  one  that  remains  in  the  resin.  When 
glass  is  rubbed,  it  is  the  resinous  electricity  which  takes 
flight,  and  its  companion  remains  faithful  to  the  glass. 
This  receives  the  name  of  vitreous  electricity,  and  bodies 
are  said  to  be  electrified  when  one  or  other  of  these  two 
electricities  is  isolated. 

The  friend  left  alone,  whether  in  the  glass  or  resin, 
ardently  longs  for  its  lost  companion.  Now  this  com- 
panion is  everywhere  present  in  conjunction  with  the 
other,  but  the  bonds  which  retain  it  cannot  be  broken 
without  great  effort.  When  a  body  is  not  too  heavy, 
and  when  it  is  near  enough  to  the  electrified  glass  or 
resin,  it  is  carried  by  the  force  of  attraction,  which  its 
disconsolate  friend  constantly  exercises  in  its  vicinity,  to 
recall  the  companion  to  itself  which  it  misses,  and  it  flies 
forward  and  rejoins  it. 

This  is  what  the  Greeks  witnessed,  and  you  under- 
stand now  why  the  bits  of  straw  flew  toward  the  amber, 
and  also  why  the  little  paper  alternately  adhered  to  your 
bottle  and  the  piece  of  sealing-wax. 

But  this  is  not  all ;  once  adhering  to  the  sealing-wax, 
which  possessed  only  resinous  electricity,  the  paper  gives 


ELECTRICITY.  195 

it  all  the  vitreous  electricity  it  contains,  and,  small  as  it 
was,  it  has  not  sufficient  for  its  requirements;  then  what 
happens  ?  It  finds  itself  filled  in  its  turn  with  resinous, 
having  lost  all  its  vitreous  electricity. 

Have  you  never  met  with  people  who  cultivate  your 
society  while  they  can  get  anything  out  of  you,  but  when 
that  is  ended,  show  you  the  door?  This  is  what  the 
sealing-wax  does  to  its  little  benefactor,  when  it  has  ex- 
tracted from  it  all  its  precious  vitreous  electricity,  with- 
out much  change  in  its  own  condition.  It  repels  it,  and 
this  is  the  more  easily  effected  since  the  paper  no  longer 
desires  to  remain  in  its  company.  All  bodies  electrified 
in  the  same  manner  repel  each  other  mutually,  and  we 
resemble  them  somewhat;  when  two  persons  cannot 
mutually  aid  each  other,  they  do  not  care  to  live  to- 
gether. 

If  the  paper  be  placed  between  the  wax  and  the  glass, 
both  being  electrified,  what  will  happen  ?  Robbed  by 
the  wax  of  its  vitreous  electricity,  it  will  go  to  refurnish 
itself  on  the  glass  which  is  fully  provided.  But  in  ex- 
change for  its  present,  the  glass  will  remorselessly  take 
possession  of  all  the  resinous  electricity  of  the  paper,  and 
the  poor  little  wretch  will  only  have  changed  one  state 
of  misery  for  another  ;  it  will  now  find  itself  vitreously 
electrified.  A  fresh  departure  ensues,  a  fresh  refurnish- 
ing from  the  wax,  followed  by  a  similar  result,  and  thus 
ever  backward  and  forward,  until  the  paper,  having  ef- 
fected an  exchange,  by  conveying  vitreous  electricity  to 
the  wax  and  resinous  electricity  to  the  glass,  until  a  per- 
fect equilibrium  is  established  between  the  two,  and  the 
paper  recovers  its  own  equilibrium.  Then  all  is  right 
again,  and  things  in  their  usual  state.  There  is  nothing 
more  to  see,  the  game  is  ended,  unless  we  begin  rubbing 
again,  and  so  recommence  the  process. 


196  ELECTRICITY. 

You  can  imagine  that  the  thing  could  be  more  quickly 
done  by  suppressing  the  intermediate  agent ;  viz.,  the 
paper,  and  merely  suspending  the  glass  bottle  and  the 
sealing-wax  side  by  side.  They  would  then  go  to  each 
other,  and  make  the  exchange  themselves  by  reason  of  a 
second  law,  which  is  the  fellow  of  the  first  All  bodies 
electrified  in  an  opposite  sense  mutually  attract  each 
other.  This  law  we  also  understand.  How  often  do  we 
see  persons  of  different  characters  sympathize  with  each 
other,  each  friend  delighting  to  find  in  the  other  what  is 
not  to  be  found  in  himself? 

If  it  depended  on  myself,  my  dear  child,  I  would  give 
you  no  other  theory  of  electricity.  This  is  far  the  nicest, 
the  easiest  to  understand,  and  the  most  pleasing  to  the 
imagination.  But  unfortunately  there  is  another,  and, 
what  is  still  more  unfortunate,  it  is  to  this  other  theory 
the  names  belong,  which  are  in  use  at  the  present  day,  so 
I  am  obliged  to  explain  it  to  you  also. 

Prepare,  then,  to  take  leave  of  our  two  friends,  the 
resinous  and  the  vitreous.  They  are  now  out  of  fashion, 
but,  nevertheless,  do  not  forget  them.  It  was  through 
them  men  first  began  to  understand  something  of  this 
great  marvel,  electricity,  and  through  them  also  children 
are  most  easily  taught  what  electricity  really  means. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

ELECTEICIT  Y — (  Con  tinned.) 

THE  naughty  man  who  put  our  resinous  and  vitreous 
friends  out  of  fashion  was  an  American,  named  Benja- 
min Franklin.  The  idea  which  he  substituted  is  a  very 
simple  one,  and  as  it  does  not  make  any  material  change 
in  the  manoeuvres  of  our  small  bit  of  paper,  a*  few  words 
will  suffice  for  me  to  explain  it  to  you. 

There  are  not  two  kinds  of  electricities  in  bodies ; 
there  is  only  one,  but  its  quantity  varies. 

The  stomach  of  the  man  who  has  had  just  the  quan- 
tity of  food  he  requires  is  contented  and  tranquil  ;  but 
an  empty  stomach,  or  one  that  is  over  charged,  not  only 
suffers,  but  each  gives  indication  of  its  painful  sensations. 
In  the  same  way  bodies  which  have  the  necessary  amount 
of  electricity  give  no  sign  of  life.  Those  which  have 
too  much,  and  those  which  are  deficient,  are  both  equally 
in  distress,  or,  as  it  is  termed,  electrified  ;  the  first  has 
too  much,  the  second  too  little,  and  hence  the  two  names, 
positive  and  negative,  are  given  to  one  and  the  same 
electricity.  These  two  words  are  easily  understood. 
The  one  which  is  overcharged  is  positively  out  of  order, 
because  of  what  is  there,  the  empty  one  is  negatively 
so,  on  account  of  what  is  not  there.  It  is  simply  the 
negative  and  affirmative  you  find  in  your  grammar. 

When  glass  is  rubbed,  the  electricity  in  it  increases, 
and  thus  it  passes  into  the  positive  state  ;  when  the  wax 

(197) 


198  ELECTRICITY. 

is  rubbed,  the  electricity  it  possesses  disappear?,  and  it 
passes  into  the  negative  state.  The  first,  then,  desires 
to  throw  off  its  surcharge,  and  the  latter  to  make  up  its 
deficiency.  If  you  bring  them  into  contact,  the  mutual 
understanding  is  perfect ;  they  run  toward  each  other, 
this  to  receive,  and  that  to  give.  If  the  piece  of  paper 
is  brought  into  play,  it  will  fly  alternately  toward  the 
rich  side  to  relieve  it  of  its  excess,  toward  the  poor  one 
to  offer  to  it  all  it  possesses,  and,  becoming  rich  or  poor 
itself  by  turns,  it  will  be  repelled  by  the  party  it  has 
relieved,  as  soon  as  it  can  no  longer  render  any  service. 
Thus,  as  you  see,  whether  there  are  two  kinds  of  elec- 
tricity, or  only  one,  whether  it  is  called  vitreous  or  posi- 
tive, resinous  or  negative,  the  effect  produced  will  always 
be  the  same  ;  bodies  electrified  in  an  opposite  manner 
will  always  be  mutually  repellent.  This  theory  of  reple- 
tion and  emptiness  is  by  no  means  poetic,  but  if  poetry 
loses,  science  gains,  and  this  is  of  far  greater  importance. 
At  the  present  day  the  terms  invented  by  the  American 
are  the  only  ones  in  use. 

I  just  now  called  this  Benjamin  Franklin  a  naughty 
man  ;  I  was  angry  with  him  for  having  robbed  us  of  the 
two  little  friends  that  would  have  suited  us  so  well ; 
were  he  still  living,  he  would  not  be  angry  with  us  for 
this ;  he  was  much  too  sensible  a  man  for  that.  But, 
between  ourselves,  we  have  not  spoken  of  him  in  terms 
of  sufficient  respect,  for  he  was  a  remarkable  man,  and 
I  much  regret  my  inability  to  give  you  a  little  sketch  of 
his  history  before  proceeding  ;  but  take  my  advice,  and 
read  it  for  yourself  the  first  time  an  opportunity  occurs. 
In  the  meantime,  I  must  tell  you  that  it  is  to  him  we  are 
indebted  for  the  discovery  of  the  important  part  which 
electricity  now  plays  in  the  world. 

You  would  be  unable  to  understand  anything  of  this 


ELECTRICITY.  199 

* 

discovery,  if  I  did  not  carry  you  a  little  further  forward 
in  the  study  we  have  already  commenced. 

First,  seeing  that  electricity  exists  in  all  bodies,  how 
does  it  happen  that  glass,  resin,  and  a  few  other  bodies, 
are  the  only  ones  that  can  be  electrified  by  friction,  the 
effect  of  which  should  be  the  same  everywhere  ?  Did  you 
ever  ask  yourself  this  question  ? 

In  the  middle  ages,  communication  between  different 
countries  was  neither  safe  nor  easy  ;  what  one  country 
produced,  wheat  for  instance,  could  only  be  consumed 
where  it  grew,  and  thus  whole  populations  might  be 
dying  from  hunger,  while  the  granaries  were  overflow- 
ing with  corn  scarce  three  hundred  miles  off.  Now-a-days, 
thanks  to  our  railways,  and  the  universal  security  which 
prevails,  when  the  harvest  fails  in  one  place,  corn  imme- 
diately flows  in  from  all  the  countries  where  it  is  abund- 
ant, and  those  deadily  famines  which  used  to  carry  off 
the  poor  by  thousands  have  become  literally  impossible. 

There  are  some  bodies  in  the  same  condition  that  we 
were  in  during  the  middle  ages,  and  on  the  surface  of 
which  electricity  cannot  circulate.  If  they  have  too 
much  in  one  point,  so  much  the  worse  for  them  ;  this 
superfluity  remains  where  it -is.  And  again,  so  much  the 
worse  for  those  parts  which  have  not  sufficient ;  none 
comes  to  them  from  other  quarters.  These  bodies  are 
called  non-conductors,  they  do  not  understand  export 
and  import,  and  this  is  the  case  with  glass  and  resin. 

There  are  other  substances,  especially  metals,  in  which 
the  transmission  of  electricity  is  accomplished  with 
astounding  rapidity  ;  it  is  said,  at  the  rate  of  ninety  or 
a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  miles  in  a  second.  These 
are  the  good  conductors,  and  you  may  rub  them  as  much 
as  you  like  ;  for  as  fast  as  they  become  electrified  on  one 
point,  whether  positively  or  negatively,  the  equilibrium 


200 

is  immediately  re-established  throughout  the  entire  body. 
Thanks  to  this  rapid  transmission,  in  comparison  of 
which  that  of  a  railway  train  is  like  nothing  !  Moreover, 
it  is  right  you  should  know  that  your  own  body  is  a 
pretty  good  conductor,  and  by  means  of  your  hand, 
which  holds  a  piece  of  metal,  the  communication  being 
established  between  it  and  the  ground,  the  great  common 
reservoir  of  electricity,  according  to  the  authorised  expres- 
sion, it  becomes  as  difficult  to  impoverish  or  to  enrich  it,  as 
it  would  be  difficult,  by  pumping,  to  empty  a  well  that 
was  in  communication  with  the  sea,  or  to  cause  the  same 
well  to  overflow  by  pouring  water  into  it. 

If,  however,  either  glass  or  resin  were  placed  between 
the  ground  and  the  metal  that  has  been  rubbed,  the  case 
would  be  different.  The  metal  would  be  insulated  from 
the  great  common  reservoir  by  these  non-conductors, 
which  do  not  allow  electricity  to  circulate  on  their  sur- 
face. This  is  termed  their  insulating  power  ;  and  then 
the  metal  may  be  electrified.  If  you  were  to  make  the 
wheels  of  a  train  run  upon  glass  rails  somewhat  raised 
from  the  ground,  the  wheels  would  be  electrified  by  the 
friction,  and  by  their  means  the  train  would,,  in  its  turn, 
become  electrified  with  all  it  contained.  Can  you  guess 
what  must  happen  the  moment  communication  with  the 
earth  is  established,  were  it  even  by  means  of  a  passen- 
ger putting  his  foot  to  the  ground  while  holding  on  to 
the  carriage-door  ?  The  whole  would  explode,  and  I  will 
prove  upon  what  grounds. 

When  your  bit  of  paper  adhered  to  the  sealing-wax  or 
glass,  it  was  only  able,  on  account  of  its  size,  to  take 
from  the  one  or  yield  up  to  the  other  a  very  small  por- 
tion of  electricity.  Had  it  been  put  in  communication 
with  the  inexhaustible  reservoir  of  the  globe,  by  means 
of  a  metallic  wire,  it  could  not  even  then  have  given  or 


« 
ELECTRICITY.  201 

taken  much  more  electricity  than  before ;  because, 
owing  to  want  of  circulation  on  the  surface  of  these 
bodies,  the  equilibrium  could  only  be  established  at  the 
point  touched  by  the  paper.  On  this  account  you  neither 
saw  nor  heard  what  passed,  for  the  re-establishment  of 
electrical  equilibrium  is  always  accompanied  by  sparks 
and  a  crackling  noise,  proportioned,  it  is  true,  to  the 
quantity  of  electricity  set  in  motion,  but  this  most  cer- 
tainly took  place.  Perhaps  some  microscopic  animal 
lost  in  the  minute  recesses  of  the  paper,  as  we  should  be 
in  a  mountain  gorge,  was  struck  down  by  the  effect 
produced,  but  it  was  too  weak  to  be  perceived  by  you. 

Suppose  a  large  metallic  surface  insulated  from  the 
ground,  strongly  electrified, — this  is  done  by  means  of  an 
electric  machine,  which  I  have  not  time  just  now  to  stop 
and  explain  to  you, — and  then  to  have  some  body,  which 
is  a  good  conductor  brought  into  contact  with  it ;  the 
equilibrium  would  instantaneously  re-establish  itself 
over  the  whole  surface,  by  means  of  its  prodigious  facility 
of  transmission.  A  torrent  of  electricity — if  I  may  be 
allowed  the  expression — would  rush  from  one  body  to 
the  ether,  and  its  passage  would  be  revealed  by  a  bright 
spark,  and  a  sharp  noise  like  the  crackling  of  wood.  If 
the  body  which  was  the  good  conductor  happened  to  be 
your  own,  you  would  experience  a  shock  by  no  means  the 
most  agreeable,  I  can  assure  you  ;  a  sensation  in  all  re- 
spects so  peculiar  that  you  must  feel  it  yourself  in  order 
to  realise  it. 

Enlarge  the  surface,  the  spark,  the  noise,  and  the  shock 
increase  with  it,  and  if  it  attains  certain  proportions  it 
becomes  a  flash  of  lightning,  a  peal  of  thunder,  instant 
death  for  whoever  may  be  bold  enough  to  try  the  exper- 
iment. An  electric  machine  the  size  of  a  railway  train 
would  kill  a  man  as  instantaneously  as  the  lightning  it- 
9* 


202  ELECTRICITY. 

self,  and  it  would  kill  as  many  hundreds  as  happened  to 
be  in  it  at  the  moment  of  the  discharge,  which  is  the 
name  given  to  the  sudden  re-establishment  of  equilibrium 
between  two  electrified  bodies. 

We  now  come  to  the  discovery  made  by  the  great 
American ;  but  before  entering  upon  it,  one  detail 
more  requires  to  be  noticed. 

I  resume  my  supposition  of  a  train  electrifying  itself 
on  glass  rails,  with  the  prospect  of  certain  death  to 
the  passengers  at  the  first  moment  of  contact  with  the 
ground.  This  will  never  happen,  but  there  is  no  harm  in 
imagining  it.  It  is  thus  that  -fairy  tales  were  invented, 
which  grave  men  will  do  away  with  when  there  shall  no 
longer  be  any  children. 

What  is  to  be  done  to  save  these  unfortunate  travel- 
lers ?  If  we  touch  them  they  are  lost. 

There  is  no  difficulty  in  the  matter.  The  train  stop- 
ping of  its  own  accord,  I  should  cause  it  to  be  surround- 
ed by  a  battalion  of  soldiers,  with  orders  to  cross  bayo- 
nets at  a  foot  from  the  carriages,  and  after  five  minutes 
pause  the  soldiers  may  with  confidence  give  a  hand  to 
the  travellers,  and  help  them  to  alight ;  the  danggt  is 
over. 

You  do  not  understand  how  this  can  be !  and  it  is  in 
fact  as  marvellous  as  any  fairy  tale.  This  wonder  arises 
from  a  singular  law  of  electricity,  the  explanation  of 
which  would  take  up  too  much  time,  but  I  can  give  you 
an  idea  of  it  in  a  few  words. 

Electricity  is  in  a  manner  chained  to  the  surface  of 
bodies,  when  they  are  flat  or  round.  It  can  escape  far 
more  readily  when  they  terminate  in  a  point ;  this  is 
what  is  called  the  power  of  points. 

My  imaginary  train,  having  rubbed  on  the  glass,  which 
becomes  positively  electrified,  would  itself  become  nega- 


ELECTRICITY.  203 

tively  so ;  for  you  must  recollect,  that  two  bodies  rubbed 
together  electrify  each  other  always  in  an  inverse  sense, 
one  giving,  the  other  receiving  ;  from  whence  it  results, 
we  may  remark  in  passing,  that  the  same  body  is  capable 
of  taking  indifferently  either  of  these  two  states  of  elec- 
tricity, according  to  the  nature  of  the  companion  against 
which  it  is  rubbed.  The  train  would  then  most  certainly 
have  lost  its  electricity,  and  the  danger  to  be  feared  from 
contact  with  an  exterior  body  would  arise  from  the  im- 
mense torrent  of  electricity  suddenly  precipitating  itself 
over  so  vast  a  surface  to  establish  the  equilibrium.  Each 
bayonet  directed  toward  it  would  have  exactly  the  effect 
of  so  many  tubes  pouring  streams  of  water  with  an  in- 
calculable rapidity  into  an  empty  basin ;  the  basin  would 
soon  be  filled.  The  same  with  the  train  ;  and  the  travel- 
lers, restored  with  it  to  their  usual  condition,  could  re- 
sume communication  with  the  great  common  reservoir, 
the  earth,  without  any  danger. 

Now  I  shall  give  a  little  account  of  Benjamin  Frank- 
lin. 

He  was  not  exactly  a  learned  man,  for  he  was  origin- 
ally a  printer,  working  for  his  daily  bread,  but  liking 
study  very  much,  and  he  wrote  certain  books  for  the  im- 
provement of  his  contemporaries,  which  will  never  go 
out  of  date,  because  they  include  the  secret  of  all  true 
manliness.  From  a  book  that  happened  to  be  sent  from 
England,  Franklin  learned  what  I  have  just  been  endeav- 
oring to  teach  you  ;*  and  the  idea  occurred  to  him,  that 
since  the  discharge  of  an  electric  machine  resembled,  as 
it  were,  terrestrial  electricity  of  a  certain  force,  celestial 
electricity  or  the  lightning  of  heaven,  with  its  noise  and 
its  brilliancy,  might  after  all  be  nothing  more  nor  less 
than  an  immense  electric  discharge. 

*  We  must  except  the  power  of  points  discovered  by  himself. 


204  ELECTRICITY. 

And  lie  found  that  he  was  right. 

Franklin  had  announced,  three  years  previously,  that 
by  placing  metallic  wires  on  end,  at  a  sufficient  height 
insulated  from  the  ground,  and  terminating  each  in  a 
point,  one  could  see  them  electrified  on  the  approach  of 
a  thunder  cloud,  and  he  was  waiting  until  a  steeple,  then 
in  course  of  erection  in  Philadelphia,  should  be  complet- 
ed, that  he  might  make  the  experiment.  Tired  of  wait- 
ing, however,  he  at  last  constructed  a  kite  with  two  sticks 
and  a  handkerchief,  arming  it  with  a  metallic  point,  and 
one  stormy  day  he  went  into  the  fields  to  fly  it.  A  large 
black  cloud  passed  over  the  kite,  and  Franklin  received 
electric  sparks  by  touching  a  key  with  his  finger,  having 
first  fastened  the  key  to  the  end  of  the  kite  string  ;*  this 
was  indubitable  proof  of  the  presence  of  electricity  in  the 
cloud. 

This  took  place  in  June  1752  ;  and  now  mark  well 
the  danger  of  delay.  By  waiting  so  long  for  the  steeple, 
the  illustrious  American  was  not  the  first  to  realise  the 
idea  which  he  was  the  first  to  conceive.  A  month  pre- 
vious, on  May  10th,  at  half-past  two  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, the  first  electric  spark  drawn  from  the  clouds,  as 
one  may  say,  was  seen  by  a  carpenter  at  Marly — the 
Marly  of  Louis  XIY. — which  will  one  day  be  talked  of 
for  this,  let  me  tell  you,  much  more  than  for  its  having 
been  the  occasional  abode  of  the  great  king,  for  whom 
the  world  at  large  will  care  but  little.  Marly-le-Roi  is 
near  St.  Germain,  and  belonged  to  Madame  de  Mainte- 
non,  for  whom  it  was  built  by  Louis  XIY. 

I  must  give  you  the  history  of  this  spark,  which  is 
more  worthy  of  record  ftian  many  a  battle. 

*  The  key  was  retained  by  a  silken  cord  which  intercepted  the 
communication  with  the  ground.  Silk,  as  you  perhaps  know,  is  one 
of  those  bad  conductors  called  insulators,  or  non-conductors. 


ELECTRICITY.  205 

Buffon,  the  celebrated  naturalist,  had  undertaken  to 
introduce  the  ideas  of  the  Philadelphia  printer  into 
France,  as  he  already  begun  to  astonish  the  scientific 
men  of  Europe,  who  were  somewhat  mortified  to  see 
themselves  left  in  the  background,  by  one  who  had  hith- 
erto held  no  rank  among  philosophers.  "As  Buffon  was 
occupied  with  more  important  affairs/'  says  one  of  his 
contemporaries,*  "he  abandoned  this  duty  to  one  of  his 
friends  named  Dalibard."  This  Dalibard  was  an  intel- 
ligent man,  and  had  so  strong  a  liking  for  the  new  doc- 
trine that,  impatient  to  know  whether  the  inventor  was 
right  in  his  surmises,  he  could  not  wait  till  Franklin  had 
tried  his  experiment.  "  It  never  thunders  in  Philadelphia," 
was  already  the  byword  in  Paris,  amongst  those  who 
.were  teased  with  Franklin's  delays.  I  quote  the  ex- 
pression to  show  you  how  little  was  known  of  America 
at  that  period. 

Dalibard  caused  a  pointed  iron  rod  one  hundred  feet 
high  to  be  placed  on  end,  well  insulated  from  the  ground, 
on  a  property  he  possessed  at  Marly.  As  no  storm  oc- 
curred he  returned  to  Paris,  leaving  the  iron  rod  in 
charge  of  a  carpenter,  who  had  orders  not  to  lose  sight 
of  it,  in  case  the  weather  changed.  The  storm  came  at 
last,  the  iron  rod  emitted  sparks,  and  thus  it  happened 
that,  owing  to  the  fortuitous  arrangement  of  Franklin, 
Buffon,  and  Dalibard,  this  carpenter  was  the  first  man  to 
see,  with  his  own  eyes,  the  fire  of  heaven  coming  down 
by  command  and  exposing  itself  for  the  gratification  of 
human  curiosity. 

These  long-pointed  iron  rods  that  are  seen  rising  from 

*  This  phrase  is  taken  from  the  first  of  the  letters  on  electricity, 
(1752,)  by  the  Abbe  Nollet,  one  of  the  famous  natural  philosophers 
of  the  last  century,  who  amusingly  jokes  the  new  comer  as  to  his 
pretension  of  being  able  to  invoke  electricity  by  sticking  up  metallic 
points  on  the  highest  parts  of  buildings. 


206  ELECTRICITY. 

the  roofs  of  large  buildings,  are  the  invention  of  Benja- 
min Franklin.  They  act  the  very  part  that  our  bayonets 
did  a  little  while  ago,  and  silently  discharge  from  the 
clouds  the  electricity,  which  might  destroy  the  edifice 
should  they  pass  too  near  it.  It  is  the  iron  rod  erected 
at  Marly,  but  with  a  most  important  alteration.  Instead 
of  being  carefully  insluated  from  the  soil,  the  lower  ex- 
tremities of  lightning-conductors  are  put  in  communica- 
tion with  it,  and  a  thousand  methods  are  invented  to 
render  this  communication  as  complete  as  possible,  other- 
wise, so  far  from  being  any  protection,  the  lightning- 
conductor  would  become  very  dangerous,  for  the  elec- 
tricity of  the  clouds  accumulating  there,  and  finding  no 
issue,  would  immediately  discharge  itself  on  the  building, 
and  thus  we  might  bring  down  upon  us  a  dangerous  vis- 
itor, which,  but  for  the  conductor,  might  have  kept  at  a 
distance. 

Now  when  you  see  metallic  cords  reaching  from  the 
rods  to  the  ground  along  buildings  which  are  surmounted 
with  lightning  conductors,  you  will  know  what  is  their 
use,  and  remember  you  must  never  go  near  them  during 
a  thunder  storm.  The  electric  fluid,  silent  and  invisible, 
is  very  probably  there,  and  as  the  proverb  says,  "  Let 
sleeping  dogs  lie." 

Now,  what  do  you  say  ?  Have  we  not  made  some 
progress  from  Gilbert's  yellow  amber,  and  the  piece  of 
straw  adhering  to  it  ?  and  have  we  not  attained  to  some- 
thing more  serious  ?  Well  1  you  have  still  more  wonder- 
ful things  to  hear  about.  We  shall  by  means  of  a  frog's 
leg,  arrive  at  a  series  of  revelations  which  will  even  sur- 
pass all  we  have  yet  seen. 


CHAPTER  XXIY. 

ELECTRICIT  Y — ( Continued). 

IT  was  in  1786,  thirty-four  years  after  the  spark  had 
been  observed  by  the  Marly  carpenter,  as  has  been  de- 
scribed, that  a  physician  of  Bologna,  Professor  of  Anato- 
my, set  about  preparing  frogs,  as  they  say  in  that  coun- 
try, with  a  view  to  scientific  research  ;  after  having  killed 
them  he  flayed  them,  in  order  to  study  their  organization 
more  carefully.  As  he  prepared  them,  he  hung  them 
one  by  one  upon  his  balcony,  by  means  of  small  copper 
hooks  passed  through  their  loins  at  the  very  spot  whence 
the  large  nerve,  known  by  the  name  of  the  lumbar  nerve, 
issues,  and  which  is  situated  in  the  same  locality  in  man 
also,  for  in  the  general  plan  of  the  nervous  system  we 
are  not  differently  constructed  from  the  frog.  A  breeze 
arising,  caused  a  movement  among  the  frogs,  and  each 
time  that  one  of  them  touched  the  iron  bars  of  the  bal- 
cony with  its  pendent  feet,  it  suddenly  doubled  up  with 
a  convulsive  movement,  as  if  the  poor  little  dead  body 
had  begun  to  jump. 

How  frequently  is  human  glory  the  simple  result  of 
chance !  If  this  Professor  of  Anatomy  had  been  stand- 
ing at  this  moment  with  his  back  turned  to  the  balcony, 
he  would  assuredly  long  ago  have  sunk  into  the  same 
oblivion  into  which  so  many  other  professors  of  his  day 
have  fallen,  who  doubtless  were  as  worthy  of  remem- 
brance. But  happily  he  saw  the  frogs  jump,  wished  to 
know  the  cause  of  the  phenomenon,  and  became  immor- 

'207) 


208  ELECTEICITY. 

tal !  This  man  was  called  Galvani.  When  you  hear 
the  words  galvanoplastic,  galvanized  iron,  galvanic 
brushes,  etc.,  etc.,  you  will  at  once  know  them  to  be  de- 
rived from  the  name  of  the  experimenter  on  frogs. 

Galvani  at  once  understood  the  nature  of  the  convul- 
sion which  appeared  to  resuscitate  the  little  dead  feet. 
He  said  to  himself  that  the  shock  could  only  be  the  effect 
of  an  electric  discharge. 

But  whence  proceeded  the  electricity  thus  dis- 
charged ? 

Galvani  being  a  physician,  at  once  attributed  it  to  the 
nerve  and  muscles  which  had  been  put  in  communication 
by  means  of  a  metallic  circle.  He  declared  that  an  ani- 
mal electricity  existed,  of  which  the  nerves  were  the 
conductors,  self-producing  in  living  bodies,  and  existing 
in  them  for  some  time  after  death.*  He  was  right,  but 
his  discovery  was  only  partial. 

This  opportune  gust  of  wind  sufficed  to  r'ender  tvvo 
men  immortal.  Volta,  Professor  of  Physics  at  Pavia, 
had  the  intelligence  requisite  to  work  out  the  remaining 
part,  and  so  to  complete  Galvani's  discovery.  Being  a 
natural  philosopher,  he  laid  aside  the  idea  of  nerves  and 
muscles,  and  turned  his  attention  to  metals,  declaring  in 
his  turn,  that  the  cause  of  the  discharge  resulted  from 
the  contact  of  the  two  metals,  namely,  the  copper  hooks 
and  the  iron  balcony,  the  one  of  which  having  attracted 
all  the  electricity  from  the  other,  had  become  positively 
electrified,  the  other,  negatively.  A  celebrated  contro- 
versy arose  between  the  two  professors,  who  both  came 
off  triumphant,  a  solitary  instance,  I  believe,  in  the  an- 
nals of  science,  and  whilst  Galvani  successfully  establish- 
ed his  share  of  the  discovery  in  obtaining  shocks  by 

*  After  a  certain  lapse  of  time,  a  dead  frog  becomes  insensible  to 
the  double  contact  of  iron  and  copper. 


ELECTRICITY,  209 

placing  the  nerves  and  the  muscles  of  the  frogs  in  direct 
contact  without  the  intervention  of  any  metal,  Volta 
established  his  theory,  no  less  successfully,  in  the  inven- 
tion of  the  famous  Voltaic  or  electrical  pile  that  still 
bears  his  name. 

Making  his  experiment  the  reverse  of  that  of  Galvani, 
Volta  replaced  the  half-dead  frog's  legs  with  something 
inanimate,  such  as  a  piece  of  wet  cloth,  and  from  one 
experiment  to  another,  he,  at  last,  arrived  at  the  con- 
clusion, that  the  two  metals  most  suitable  to  electrify  one 
another  in  an  inverse  manner,  by  contact,  were  copper 
and  zinc.  He  also  found  that  the  effect  produced  be- 
came more  considerable,  if  a  series  of  pieces  of  metal, 
copper  and  zinc,  were  always  coupled  two  by  two  in  the 
same  order.  This  was  the  origin  of  his  pile,  formed  with 
a  certain  number  of  couples,  copper  and  zinc,  piled  one 
upon  another,  making  a  kind  of  column  terminating 
above  in  a  piece  of  copper,  and  below  in  a  piece  of  zinc. 
No  animal  electricity  could  by  any  possibility  be  formed 
here,  nevertheless  the  two  pieces  of  metal  placed  at  the 
extremities  of  the  pile  were  electrified  ;  that  of  the  copper 
negatively,  that  of  the  zinc  positively.  If  two  metallic 
wires  were  attached,  one  to  each  end  of  the  pile,  and  the 
other  extremities  of  the  wires  brought  into  contact  with 
each  other,  an  electrical  discharge  was  produced,  or 
rather,  I  should  say,  a  continuous  succession  of  dis- 
charges. The  equilibrium  constantly  destroying  itself 
as  fast  as  it  was  established,  scarcely  had  the  electricity 
reached  the  negative  extremity,  ere  it  returned  to 
the  end  positively  electrified,  from  which  the  surplus 
always  renewing  itself  was  as  constantly  thrown  off! 
Imagine  a  fountain  which  discharges  itself  into  a  cask 
without  any  bottom  and  through  which  the  water  returns 
again  into  the  reservoir.  It  is  quite  clear  that  the  cask 


210  ELECTRICITY. 

would  never  become  full,  nor  the  reservoir  empty.  And 
this  is  the  case  with  the  two  pieces  of  copper  and  zinc 
placed  at  the  extremities  of  the  pile.  If  ever  there  was 
a  scientific  name  happily  chosen,  it  is  this  of  electric 
current,  given  by  Volta  to  this  inexhaustible  stream  of 
electricity,  which  flows  from  the  one  piece  of  metal  to 
the  other. 

This  is  a  very  different  thing  from  the  spark  of  the 
electric  machine,  even  when  that  is  magnified  to  the  pro- 
portions of  the  thunderbolt. 

I  remember  a  game  we  used  to  play  at  school,  called 
"  The  Stag."  It  began  with  a  large  herd  of  stags,  pur- 
sued by  one  dog.  If  I  recollect  right  I  was  delighted  to 
be  this  dog.  At  the  onset  all  chance  seemed  against 
him,  but  as  soon  as  he  caught  a  stag,  it  immediately 
became  a  dog,  and  had  to  assist  in  capturing  another 
stag,  which,  in  its  turn,  joined  the  pursuit,  and  thus  by 
degrees,  the  pack  gradually  increasing  in  number,  suc- 
ceeded in  capturing,  the  last  stag.  This,  in  some  meas- 
ure, resembles  the  war  commenced  by  man  at  his  creation 
against  Nature.  Alone  at  the  beginning,  and  as  if  lost 
among  a  thousand  inimical  powers,  the  combat  seemed  a 
very  unequal  one,  but  the  first  that  he  overcame  imme- 
diately became  his  auxiliary,  and  it  is  by,  in  a  manner, 
forcing  each  new  captive  to  fight  by  his  side,  that  he  has 
at  last  succeeded  in  plucking  so  many  feathers  from  the 
wing  of  nature,  if  I  may  be  allowed  thus  to  express 
myself. 

Now,  in  a  warfare  of  this  nature,  the  importance  of 
the  capture  ought  to  be  calculated  in  proportion  to  the 
amount  of  service  the  captive  can  render,  and  the  new 
form  under  which  electricity  revealed  itself  this  time 
was  a  great  boon  to  man.  It  is  no  easy  matter  to  make 
the  electric  spark  do  our  bidding,  but  an  electric  cur- 


ELECTRICITY.  211 

rent !  can  we  control  it  ?    Think  what  we  can  make  a 
stream  of  water  do  ! 

Scarcely  was  the  pile  discovered  when  it  showed  us 
what  use  it  might  be  turned  to.  I  have  already  told 
you  that,  in  nine  pounds'  of  water,  one  pound  of  hydrogen 
and  eight  of  oxygen  are  found.  The  very  first  experi- 
ment of  the  pile  taught  us  this.  Until  that  moment,  no 
one  had  ever  thought  of  seeking  for  anything  but  water 
in  water.  Water  was,  as  you  are  well  aware,  one  of 
the  four  elements*  recognized  by  the  ancients  as  earth, 
air,  fire  and  water,  and  these  four  were  considered  as  the 
universal  basis  of  all  bodies.  An  Englishman  who,  for 
the  first  time,  was  studying  the  effects  of  the  new  appar- 
atus designed  by  Yolta,  was  struck  by  a  smell  of  hydro- 
gen which  could  not  be  accounted  for,t  and  by  dint  of 
observation,  he  at  last  convinced  himself,  that  the  water 
contained  in  the  wet  layers  was  decomposed  by  the  pas- 
sage of  the  electric  current  into  two  gases,  of  which  the 
one,  oxygen,  went  to  the  positive  extremity  of  the  pile, 
and  the  other,  hydrogen,  was  disengaged  at  the  negative 
extremity.  It  was  an  easy  matter  for  philosophers  to 
collect  with  exactitude,  to  measure,  and  to  weigh  the 
two  gases  thus  produced,  and  they  had  soon  a  clear 
proof  of  the  fact  they  maintained.  By  directing  an 
electric  spark  through  the  two  gases  enclosed  in  the 
same  vase,  they  effected  an  explosion  accompanied  by 
sparks.  This  was  the  reunion  of  the  two  disunited 

*  Element  is  synonymous  with  simple  body,  a  word  now  used  to 
express  a  body  which  as  yet  has  not  been  decomposed  into  several 
others.  At  present  we  can  number  sixty  simple  bodies,  but  it  is  a 
list  that  is  exposed  to  constant  change  from  the  discovery  of 
new  indecomposible  bodies,  or  from  the  decomposition  of  old  ones. 
Some  persons  are  of  opinion  that  there  ought  only  to  be  two  simple 
bodies.  Perhaps  there  may  after  all  be  only  one. 

f  Hydrogen  has  a  peculiar  odor,  sufficiently  distinct  not  to  de- 
ceive a  chemist's  sense  of  smell. 


212  ELECTRICITY. 

gases,  and  only  some  tiny  drops  of  water  were  found  in 
their  place  ;  what  the  electric  current  had  divided,  the 
electric  spark  re-united. 

The  discovery  of  the  true  nature  of  water  was  made 
in  the  year  1800,  and  the  discoverer's,  name  was  Nichol- 
son. I  wish  you  would  accustom  yourself  to  remember 
the  names  of  these  conquerors  and  the  dates  of  their 
conquests.  What  are  those  odious  little  battles  between 
men  compared  with  the  great  and  fruitful  battles  of  man 
against  Nature  ?  And  tell  me,  if  you  please,  which  de- 
serves the  place  of  honor  in  the  memory  of  little  girls  ? 

These  were  sad  times  for  the  famous  quatuor  of  ele- 
ments, so  long  the  undisputed  fathers  of  all  bodies. 
Only  a  few  years  before,  the  illustrious  Frenchman, 
Lavoisier  had  at  one  blow  divided  the  air  into  two  gases, 
oxygen  and  azote,  and  scored  out  fire  from  the  list  of 
simple  bodies  by  proving,  scales  in  hand,  that  it  was 
only  an  illumination  produced  by  the  union  of  gases.* 
Then  here  comes  an  Englishman  to  deprive  water  of  its 
rank  as  an  element ;  and  seven  years  later  another  Eng- 
lishman named  Davy,  another  name  I  wish  you  to  re- 
member, gave  the  last  blow  to  the  sole  survivor  of  the 
four,  already  in  a  very  sickly  condition,  by  discovering, 
thanks  to  the  pile,  metals  in  the  earth. 

At  that  time  the  name  earths,  in  the  plural,  was  given 
to  potassa,  soda,  alumina,  silica,  magnesia ;  in  short,  to 
all  those  substances  which,  mixed  together,  form  almost 
the  entire  composition  of  stones ;  and  consequently  the 
soil  of  our  fields,  which,  though  you  may  not  be  aware 
of  it,  is  nothing  else  than  pulverised  stone.  Nicholson's 
discovery  concerning  water  led  the  way  to  similar  dis- 

*  Lavoisier's  theory,  as  it  is  generally  understood,  is,  that  com- 
bustion consists  in  or  results  from  a  combination  of  bodies,  with  the 
oxygen  floating  in  the  surrounding  air. — TRANSLATOR'S  NOTE. 


ELECTRICITY.  213 

coveries  with  regard  to  many  other  bodies,  which  all 
permitted  of  their  bonds  of  affinity  being  broken  up  by 
the  electric  current ;  and  what  is  singular,  it  was  always 
the  oxygen,  or  the  portion  in  which  this  gas  was  most 
abundant,  which  appeared  at  the  positive  extremity  ;  the 
other  part  invariably  passed  to  the  negative.  In  the 
year  1807,  Davy,  who  had  arranged  a  very  strong  pile, 
submitted  potassa,  soda,  and  their  companions  to  the  ac- 
tion of  a  very  powerful  current,  and  produced  the  result 
anticipated.  The  earths  were  destroyed,  the  oxygen 
appeared  at  its  post,  and  potassium,  sodium,  magnesium, 
aluminium,  etc.,  were  successively  discernible  at  the 
opposite  end,  and  were  henceforth  classed  in  the  order 
of  the  old  metals — iron,  copper,  gold,  silver,  etc., — under 
the  name  of  earthy  metals. 

All  these  metals  terminating  in  um  sound. very  scien- 
tific to  our  ears.  There  is  one  of  them,  however,  alum- 
inium, that  you  must  be  acquainted  with  ;  for  it  has  had 
the  good  taste  to  place  itself  at  the  service  of  young 
ladies  in  the  form  of  trinkets,  since  a  no  ted  French  chemist, 
Henri  Sainte- Claire  Deville,  has  found  out  how  to  obtain 
in  ingots  what  the  pile  only  produced  in  particles  far 
too  small  for  use.  There  is  another  which  also  appears 
destined  to  enjoy  a  brilliant  future  ;  this  is  magnesium, 
which  is  beginning  to  be  used  on  special  occasions  for 
lighting,  and  a  single  wire  oft  which,  when  burning,  gives 
forth  a  light  surpassing  that  of  any  lamp.  If  potassium 
were  cheaper,  its  wonderful  power  of  spinning  round 
upon  water,  and  darting  forth  actual  fireworks,  would 
long  since  have  brought  it  into  notice  as  an  object  of 
curiosity.  I  grant  there  is  nothing  very  important  in 
all  this,  but  it  is  only  the  beginning,  and  the  Davy's 
metals  have  not  yet  fulfilled  their  destiny.  Aluminium 
is  already  making  a  very  respectable  apprenticeship  as 


214  ELECTRICITY. 

an  available  metal  in  the  industrial  world ;  and  if  this 
were  the  only  one,  it  would  be  sufficient  to  place  the 
English  philosopher  in  the  rank  of  those  who  have  ex- 
tended the  field  of  human  knowledge.  The  French  phil- 
osopher also  deserves  his  share  of  praise ;  and  we  must 
not  forget  the  great  Italian  who  invented  the  pile.  There 
is  this  advantage  in  opening  up  a  new  furrow  in  science, 
that  all  who  have  contributed  to  its  development  are 
entitled  to  our  gratitude. 

Unfortunately,  we  have  not  sufficient  time  to  pass  in 
review  all  the  conquests  due  to  the  pile.  Still  I  cannot 
bid  adieu  to  Davy  without  speaking  to  you  of  the  elec- 
tric light  which  this  sun  kindles  at  our  bidding,  when- 
ever we  require  it,  by  means  of  the  pile. 

It  was  Davy  who  produced  the  apparatus  used  at  the 
present  day  to  obtain  those  prodigious  effects  of  light 
which  enable  workmen  to  labor  in  the  dock-yards  by 
night  as  easily  as  they  can  in  broad  daylight.  The 
electric  current  produces  these  effects,  by  traversing 
small  pieces  of  charcoal  placed  one  after  the  other  at  the 
extremity  of  the  two  wires  of  a  strong  pile.  If  Gilbert, 
whilst  rubbing  his  bits  of  amber,  had  been  told  that,  by 
means  of  this  simple  art,  one  of  his  countrymen  would, 
two  centuries  later,  have  invented  a  new  light  for  the 
use  of  mankind,  fancy  how  great  his  astonishment  would 
have  been !  Nor  would  it  have  been  less  cause  for  won- 
der had  he  been  told  that,  thanks  to  him,  a  day  would 
come  when  silver  spoons  would  be  more  common  than 
pewter  ones  were  in  his  day.  You  must  understand  that 
I  am  here  alluding  to  galvanoplastics,  of  which  I  wish  to 
speak  to  you  more  at  length,  inasmuch  as  it  is  far  more 
nearly  connected  with  the  subject  now  occupying  our  at- 
tention than  you  can  possibly  guess. 

In  that  celebrated  garden  of  Greek  roots,  of  which  we 


ELECTRICITY.  215 

spoke  in  the  chapter  on  Ruminants,  (a  ruminator  is  a 
man  who  muses,)  we  read  this  line  which,  had  he  seen  it, 
would  have  extracted  a  grimace  from  Boileau, 

"  Plasso,  forme,  enduit,  fait  semblant." 

Such  as  it  is,  it  suits  us,  for  it  teaches  you  that  galvano- 
plastic  means  coated  by  Glalvani.  It  ought  to  have  been 
voltaplastic  to  be  accurate,  but  that  is  of  no  consequence. 

You  have  just  now  seen  that  where  the  demolition  of 
a  body  is  effected  by  the  current  of  the  pile,  the  oxygen 
retreats  to  the  side  that  is  positively  electrified,  or  car- 
ries off  to  that  point  its  intimate  friends,  who  remain 
hooked  on  to  it  in  the  struggle.  The  remainder  runs  to 
the  negative  side. 

This  being  settled,  recall  to  your  mind  those  beautiful 
blue  crystal  pyramids  which  you  must  more  than  once 
have  admired  while  passing  the  druggists'  shops.  The 
masses  who  have  remained  faithful  to  the  name  employed 
in  the  middle  ages,  call  this  blue  vitriol ;  the  scientific 
name  is  sulphate  of  copper.  These  blue  crystals  are  full 
of  copper ;  but  try  if  you  can  extract  it  with  your  fingers ! 
it  is  held  there  in  bonds  of  affinity  infinitely  more  com- 
plicated than  those  by  which  hydrogen  and  oxygen  be- 
come water,  and  perhaps  you  will  not  be  sorry,  to  speak 
in  lawyer-like  style,  to  know  the  condition  of  the  con- 
tracting parties. 

From  the  first  union  of  copper  with  oxygen,  a  new 
body  is  formed,  known  as  oxide  of  copper,  which  alone 
appears  like  a  black  powder.  This  oxide  in  its  turn  unites 
with  sulphuric  acid,  which  again  is  only  a  composition 
of  sulphur  and  a  large  proportion  of  oxygen,  and  all  these 
unions  combined  produce  the  blue  crystal.  There  are  a 
great  many  unions  in  this  affair,  are  tjiere  not  ?  but  I  am 
persuaded  that  you  will  be  able  to  recognise  them  all. 


216  ELECTRICITY. 

You  disentangled  more  intricate  family  webs  than  this 
the  other  day  when  you  accomplished  the  numbering  of 
the  relationship  to  your  cousin. 

The  current  of  the  pile  will  soon  unravel  them,  and 
what  is  more,  partly  untie  them,  if  you  will  make  it  tra- 
verse a  basin  of  water  in  which  you  shall  have  melted 
one  of  these  blue  crystals  full  of  copper.  It  is  a  voyage 
which  you  can  compel  it  to  take  by  putting  one  part  of 
the  basin  in  communication  with  the  positive  and  the 
other  with  the  negative  wire;  it  immediately  rushes 
from  one  wire  to  the  other  across  the  bluish  water,  which 
is  a  good  conductor,  and  sows  discord  among  the  com- 
ponent parts  all  along  its  passage.  The  oxygen  which 
was  united  to  the  copper  abandons  it  all  on  a  sudden, 
and  runs  to  the  positive  wire  in  concert  with  the  sul- 
phuric acid,  upon  which  the  copper,  deprived  of  its  oxygen, 
produces  the  same  effect  which  a  girl  without  a  dowry, 
does  upon  a  miser.  The  copper  thus  forsaken,  liberated, 
as  chemists  say,  makes  for  the  negative  wire,  and  on 
arriving  there,  behaves  as  amiably  as  we  could  desire 
now  that  we  know  how  to  make  it  subservient  to  our 
use. 

If  it  encounters  a  metallic  object  there,  or  one  simply 
washed  over  with  a  layer  of  metal,  no  matter  how  thin, 
it  immediately  makes  friends  with  the  comrade  presented 
to  it,  and  deposits  itself  all  over  the  surface  of  the  object 
in  impalpable  particles,  penetrating  the  most  remote 
corners,  so  that  after  a  certain  length  of  time  all  this 
surface  is  covered  with  a  uniform  layer  of  copper,  a 
thousand  times  better  applied  than  could  have  been  done 
by  the  hammer  of  the  best  tinsmith  of  which  the  world 
can  boast. 

Bodies  resulting  from  these  double  unions  such  as  that 
of  the  blue  vitriol,  or  sulphate  of  copper,  are  called  salts. 


ELECTRICITY.  217 

If  you  dissolve  salts  of  gold  or  of  silver,  or  any  other 
metal  you  wish,  in  a  basin  of  water  the  operation  will 
be  exactly  the  same,  but  instead  of  a  layer  of  copper,  you 
will  have  a  layer  of  gold  or  silver,  as  the  case  may  be, 
which  will  adhere  to  the  object  attached  to  the  negative 
wire.  Hence  all  this  new,  cheap  silver-plate,  which  re- 
joices the  hearts  of  the  humblest  individuals. 

"When  you  eat  your  soup,  if  the  useless  luxury  has  been 
abolished  in  your  house  of  using  solid  silver  spoons  and 
forks,  you  can  say  to  yourself,  that  you  are  acquainted 
with  the  history  of  your  spoon.  It  has  passed  through 
an  electric  bath  of  a  salt  of  silver,  out  of  which  it  has 
come  plated.  This  coating,  the  coating  of  Galvani,  is 
of  incomparably  purer  silver  than  is  that  of  royal  spoons, 
when,  indeed,  kings  condescend  to  make  use  of  silver. 
Only  I  must  warn  you  that  it  is  exceedingly  slight.  Do 
not  take  it  into  your  head  to  follow  the  example  of  a 
very  zealous  cook  that  I  once  knew,  who  scoured  some 
electro-plated  covers  with  ashes  with  all  her  might. 
What  is  noble  on  the  surface  only,  is  soon  rendered 
ignoble  by  rough  usage.  On  this  account  deal  gently 
with  your  spoons ;  and  that  you  may  have  nothing  to  fear 
from  the  rubs  of  the  world,  let  your  little  heart  be  silver 
to  the  very  core. 

10 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

ELECTRICITY — (Continued.) 

THE  inconvenience,  or  if  you  prefer  it,  the  advantage 
of  study,  my  dear  child,  is  this,  that  it  always  leads  you 
farther  than  you  thought  of  going.  In  order  to  prepare 
you  to  understand  the  action  of  the  nerves,  and  the  part 
they  perform  in  your  body,  I  have  been  obliged  to  speak 
to  you  upon  a  variety  of  subjects,  each  one  more  curious 
than  the  other  ;  and  now,  whether  disposed  or  not,  I  am 
under  the  necessity  of  explaining  the  electric  telegraph : 
an  invention  of  the  Almighty  which  dates  from  the  first 
moment  an  animal  began  to  move. 

This  electricity,  which  has  for  some  time  occupied  our 
attention,  is  a  very  mysterious  power.  I  do  not  know  to 
what  to  compare  it  better  than  to  an  actor  who  by 
means  of  changing  his  dress,  is  enabled  to  represent  all 
the  different  characters  in  a  play.  This  power  is  to  be 
met  with  everywhere,  always  the  same  in  principle,  but 
manifesting  itself  under  different  aspects,  according  to  cir- 
cumstances. We  have  seen  it  accumulating  on  the  elec- 
trical machine,  and  instantly  disappearing  at  the  small- 
est contact.  Again  we  see  it  carried  away  in  the  form 
of  an  endless  current  in  the  pile  ;  and  I  much  regret  that 
I  had  not  time  to  enter  into  its  whole  history.  You 
would  have  been  amazed  at  the  thousand  forms  under 
which  it  manifests  itself.*  Now  we  come  to  a  new  form 

*  The  pile  in  use  at  the  present  time  bears  no  resemblance  to  that 
of  Volta,  and  in  its  construction  and  in  the  explanation  of  it,  his  first 

(218) 


ELECTRICITY.  219 

of  electricity,  so  different  from  the  others,  that,  for  a 
long  time  people  were  deceived  about  it,  and  believed 
themselves  in  the  presence  of  a  totally  distinct  power  ; 
but  there  is  no  longer  any  doubt  on  the  subject ;  I  refer 
to  what  is  called  magnetism. 

Magnetism  comes  from  the  Greek  word  magnis,  which 
signifies  a  magnet.  You  are  aware  that  the  magnet 
attracts  steel.  To  be  ignorant  of  a  discovery  made  more 
than  two  thousand  four  hundred  years  ago  would  be  a 
great  disgrace.  Thales,  one  of  the  fathers  of  Greek 
philosophy,  taught  us  that  the  loadstone  possesses  a  soul 
capable  of  attracting  iron,  and  I  should  like  his  expla- 
nation well  enough  if  we  could  agree  about  the  meaning 
of  the  word  soul.  The  natural  loadstone  such  as  was 
known  to  the  Greeks,  and  the  artificial  magnets  of  the 
present  day,  attract  iron,  as  a  piece  of  amber  that  has 
been  briskly  rubbed  attracts  bits  of  straw.  Here  is  the 
first  resemblance  between  the  power  inherent  in  them, 
and  that  observed  in  the  old  Electron  ;  but  we  are  only 
at  the  beginning  of  our  subject. 

Ask  your  mother  to  lend  you  one  of  the  needles  she 
is  in  the  habit  of  using.  The  probability  is,  it  has  be- 
come magnetised  by  the  manipulation  it  has  been  sub- 
jected to  by  your  mamma's  fingers,  while  passing  it 
rapidly  and  frequently  through  her  work.  You  may 
also  present  one  of  the  points  of  a  pair  of  scissors  in 
active  use  to  the  needle,  and  you  need  not  be  surprised 

idea  of  the  virtue  of  metals  brought  in  contact  with  each  other,  has 
been  completely  abandoned.  It  has  been  recognized  that  all 
chemical  actions,  all  changes  in  the  conditions  of  bodies,  and  even  a 
simple  difference  of  temperature  between  one  end  of  a  metallic  pile 
and  the  other,  produce  electric  currents.  The  term  pile  has  never- 
theless been  indistinctly  applied  to  all  the  different  apparatus  in- 
vented since  the  time  of  Volta,  for  producing  these  currents,  and 
with  some  justice,  for  from  his  pile  originated  all  the  more  recent 
discoveries. 


220  ELECTRICITY. 

to  see  the  needle  adhere  to  the  point.  In  this  case,  rub 
the  needle  freely  against  the  two  points  of  the  half- 
opened  scissors  ;  magnetism  being  there,  it  will  be  com- 
municated by  the  rubbing,  from  the  needle  to  the  scis- 
sors, just  as  good  and  bad  habits  are  communicated 
from  one  to  another  by  little  girls  who  live  together. 
But  if  this  experiment  do  not  succeed,  for  these  little 
feminine  implements  are  not  without  their  caprices,  and 
it  is  not  every  lady  who  is  gifted  with  the  power  of 
magnetising  with  her  fingers,  you  have  still  another  left. 
Ask  your  papa  to  buy  you  a  magnet ;  there  are  plenty 
to  be  had  in  every  toy-shop  at  about  a  shilling  or  two 
each,  and  I  can  assure  you  it  is  as  amusing  a  toy  as  any 
you  can  select.  They  are  generally  of  the  form  of  a 
horse-shoe  elongated,  the  two  extremities  of  which 
incline  toward  each  other.  Hold  your  needle  by  the 
middle,  and  rest  the  two  ends  upon  the  magnet,  giving 
it  a  little  see-saw  movement ;  a  moment  will  suffice  to 
magnetise  it. 

In  short,  hold  in  your  hand  a  magnetised  needle 
any  way  you  like.  Before  trying  your  experiment, 
satisfy  yourself  as  to  the  direction  in  which 'the  north 
lies  from  the  point  at  which  you  take  your  stand.  This 
is  exceedingly  simple.  If  you  turn  your  face  to  the  sun 
at  mid-day,  the  south  will  be  immediately  in  front  of 
you,  and  the  north  consequently  at  your  back. 

This  important  point  once  settled,  take  a  cork  and 
cut  a  delicate  round  slice  off  it,  and  place  it  in  the  mid- 
dle of  a  plate  full  of  water.  This  will  form  a  kind  of 
little  boat  capable  of  carrying  your  needle ;  place  the 
latter  on  the  cork  in  any  direction  you  choose,  you  may 
rely  upon  one  end  pointing  toward  the  north,  the  other 
consequently  toward  the  south ;  turn  the  cork  and  nee- 
dles as  you  like,  they  will  always  by  mutual  consent  re- 


ELECTRICITY.  221 

turn  to  their  respective  posts.  The  northern  extremity 
turning  from  the  south  with  horror,  and  that  of  the 
south  fleeing  from  the  north  with  all  its  might. 

This,  my  dear  child,  is  the  compass  ;  and  I  advise  you 
to  look  with  great  respect  upon  this  needle  which  turns 
about  in  the  plate  of  water.  Man  is  indebted  to  instru- 
ments of  a  similar  kind  to  guide  him  on  his  way  on  the 
open  sea,  where  he  sees  nothing  around  him  but  a  bound- 
less expanse  of  waves  exactly  resembling  each  other  ; 
and  but  for  the  unfailing  instinct  of  these  little  needles, 
we  should  in  all  probability  still  be  ignorant  of  the  ex- 
istence of  the  American  continent.  At  any  rate,  our 
bravest  mariner  would  tremble  at  the  idea  of  venturing 
upon  a  voyage  across  the  Atlantic,  and  so  one  half  of 
our  globe  would  be  lost  to  us. 

But  this  has  nothing  to  do  with  our  subject.  Let  us 
go  back  to  our  little  magnet,  for  I  conclude  you  possess 
one  •  it  will  best  answer  our  present  purpose. 

Look  at  it  well.  You  will  observe  the  letter  N 
marked  on  one  of  its  extremities.  This  end  will  always 
turn  to  the  north,  if  you  hold  the  loadstone  suspended 
by  a  string,  and  notice  its  movements.  It  is  that  end 
of  the  needle  which  rubs  against  it  that  you  will  notice 
points  toward  the  south.  Present  it  now  to  the  other 
end  of  the  needle,  that  which,  like  itself,  is  directed 
toward  the  north,  and  is  called  its  north  pole,45"  it  will 
fly  from  it ;  reverse  it,  and  present  the  south  pole  to  the 
needle,  it  will  rush  toward  it. 

Do  you  not  recognise  in  all  this  those  fundamental  laws 
of  electricity  to  which  I  recently  called  your  attention  ? 

*  These  terms,  north  and  south  poles,  have  been  given  to  the 
two  extremities  of  tho  magnetic  needle,  to  assimilate  them  with 
the  two  poles  of  the  earth,  which  may  be  considered  as  a  large 
magnet. 


222  ELECTRICITY. 

Two  bodies  rubbed  against  each  other  become  electri- 
fied in  a  contrary  sense. 

Bodies  similarly  electrified  repel  each  other. 

Bodies  differently  electrified  attract  each  other. 

It  is  clear  that  we  are  dealing  with  facts  of  the  same 
nature,  and  there  is  every  reason  to  suppose  the 
power  producing  them  to  be  the  same.  But  there  is 
something  beyond  this. 

Navigators  for  a  long  time  observed,  with  despair, 
that  in  stormy  weather,  when  the  compass  was  most  ne- 
cessary to  them,  it  sometimes  indicated  a  route  the 
reverse  of  that  intended  to  be  followed ;  turning  at  ran- 
dom, as  if  it  had  ^st  its  head.  Do  not  smile  at  my 
expression ;  it  differs  but  slightly  from  that  used  by  sea- 
men, who  in  these  cases  speak  of  their  valued  compass 
as  if  it  were  a  living  creature,  saying  it  is  bewitched, 
or,  in  other  words,  gone  mad. 

Storms  being  ascertained  by  Benjamin  Franklin  to  be 
nothing  more  than  electrical  phenomena,  and  this  pecu- 
liarity in  the  movement  of  the  needle  having  been  so 
often  observed,  led  to  the 'belief  that  there  was  an  evi- 
dent connexion  between  magnetism  and  electricity. 
This  supposition  was  corroborated  toward  the  close  of 
the  last  century  by  natural  philosophers,  who  produced 
on  the  compass  all  the  effects  of  a  storm,  nay  more,*  by 
means  of  the  electric  machine. 

*  Note  for  grown-up  persons,  taken  from  Cavallo's  "  Treatise  on 
Electricity,"  1785 : — "  A  violent  degree  of  electric  power  is  not  only 
capable  of  destroying  the  virtue  of  a  magnetic  needle  or  changing 
its  poles,  but  can  even  communicate  magnetic  attraction  to  a  body 
not  possessed  of  it.  If  a  fine  sewing-needle  be  placed  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  discharge  from  a  glass  tray  of  at  least  eight  or  ten  feet 
square,  the  needle  will  in  some  instances  become  magnetised,  and 
that  while  floating  on  water,  and  will  turn  toward  the  north.  It 
must  also  be  remarked  that  if,  at  the  time  of  the  discharge,  the  di- 


ELECTEICITY.  223 

Immediately  upon  the  discovery  of  the  pile,  it  seems 
to  me  that  scientific  men  ought  promptly  to  have  tried 
the  effect  of  its  currents  upon  the  compass  ;  an  effect 
much  more  easily  ascertained,  considering  its  constancy 
and  regularity,  than  in  the  rapid  and  capricious  dis- 
charge from  the  electrifying  machine.  It  was  not,  how- 
ever, until  the  year  1819  that  a  Danish  professor  called 
(Ersted  felt  himself  in  a  position  to  announce  to  the 
world  that  the  compass  lost  control  over  itself  when  in 
the  vicinity  of  a  wire  crossed  by  the  current  from  the 
pile.  After  the  experiments  described  by  Cavallo,  if 
you  have  had  courage  to  read  the  extract  I  made  from 
them,  the  discovery,  between  ourselves,  was  not  a  very 
extraordinary  one.  This  did  not,  however,  prevent  its 
making  a  great  sensation  ;  for  (Ersted,  a  really  scientific 
man,  at  the  same  time  that  he  made  the  discovery  found 
the  means  of  utilising  it.  Thanks  to  him,  the  illustrious 
Arago  was  enabled,  the  following  year,  to  establish  the 
fact  on  which  an  entire  telegraph  system  rests,  namely, 
that  a  bit  of  soft  iron*  became  instantaneously  mag- 

rection  of  the  needle  be  east  and  west,  the  point  that  is  struck  will 
mark  the  north.  If,  on  the  contrary,  the  direction  of  the  needle  be 
north  and  south,  the  extremity  looking  north  will  continue  to  indi- 
cate it  after  the  shock,  no  matter  from  which  side  it  comes,  and  in 
this  latter  case  the  needle  will  be  more  powerfully  magnetised  than 
in  the  former.  Lastly,  should  the  needle  be»placed  perpendicularly 
to  the  horizon,  and  the  shock  passed  by  one  or  other  of  its  extremi- 
ties, the  lower  one  will  always  point  to  the  north." 

*  In  submitting  iron  to  a  certain  process,  it  is  rendered  much 
harder  and  very  brittle  :  it  is  then  called  steel,  and  ordinary  iron 
takes  the  name  of  malleable  iron,  as  opposed  to  steel.  Iron  wire, 
which  is  readily  bent,  is  made  of  malleable  iron.  Needles,  which 
pierce  our  work  so  easily,  and  snap  asunder  when  we  try  to  bend 
them,  are  made  of  steel.  Steel  and  malleable  iron  have  not  the 
same  magnetic  properties ;  the  former  can  only  be  slowly  magne- 
tised, taking  certain  precautions,  and  then  it  remains  magnetised 
for  ever;  thus  all  loadstones  are  manufactured  from  steel.  The 


224  ELECTEICITY, 

"netised,  so  soon  as  the  voltaic  current,  I  do  not  stop  to 
explain  the  word  now,  crossed  a  wire  rolled  round  it, 
and  that  it  ceased  to  be  so,  simultaneously  with  the  ces- 
sation of  the  current  across  the  wire. 

This  fact  established,  nothing  was  easier  than  to  set 
up  electric  telegraphs.  I  have  told  you  with  what  start- 
ling rapidity  electricity  rushes  from  one  end  to  the  other  of 
bodies  which  are  good  conductors.  Let  a  metallic  wire 
be  led  out  a  hundred  miles,  a  thousand  if  you  like,  and  at 
the  end  of  its  'journey  let  it  be  rolled  round  a  bit  of  mal- 
leable iron.  At  the  same  moment  if  from  the  spot  oh 
which  you  are  standing  you  send  an  electric  current 
along  your  wire,  putting  it  into  communication  with  a 
pile  of  which  you  hold  the  one  end  in  your  hand,  the  bit 
of  metallic  iron  at  the  remote  extremity  will  suddenly  be- 
come a  magnet ;  this  will  be  quite  perceptible  to  any  per- 
son wishing  to  see  the  experiment,  as  it  will  attract  to  it 
needles  which  may  happen  to  be  presented  to  it.  At  the 
very  moment  when  by  a  slight  blow  of  the  hand  you 
suppress  the  current  by  interrupting  the  communication 
between  the  wire  and  the  pile,  the  artificial  magnet  will 
at  once  lose  its  borrowed  virtue,  and  cease  to  possess 
any  power  of  attraction.  This  is  the  principle  of  the 
electric  telegraph ;  and  as  you  see,  it  is  very  simple. 
The  rest  is  only  a  mechanical  affair,  and  I  leave  to  some 
one  else  the  task  of  explaining  to  you  the  various  kinds 
which  up  to  the  present  time  have  been  invented. 

Now,, my  dear  child,  we  can  pass  on  to  the  explana- 
tion of  what  is  called  the  nervous  system.     I  have  made 

second,  namely,  malleable  iron,  receives  magnetic  virtue  imme 
diately  on  its  simply  coming  in  contact  with  a  magnet,  and  retains 
no  trace  of  it  after  the  contact  is  suppressed.  It  is  just  like  children 
who  learn  their  lessons  very  quickly  and  forget  them,  as  readily. 
There  are  also  memories  like  steel,  which  require  longer  time  to  be 
acted  upon,  but  in  the  end  are  none  the  worse  for  that. 


ELECTRICITY.  225 

you  wait  a  long  time,  but  it  is  because  we  shall  find  elec- 
tricity connected  with  it.  This  universal  power,  which 
seems  to  preside  everywhere,  presides  also,  it  is  more 
than  probable,  over  the  mysterious  acts  of  life  in  our 
bodies  ;  and  it  was  requisite  you  should  know  something 
of  it,  before  speaking  of  the  nerves  which  may  be  con- 
sidered as  its  agents.  Only,  it  is  neither  the  electricity 
of  the  electrifying  machine,  nor  that  of  the  pile,  nor  that 
of  the  loadstone  either  ;  it  is  living  electricity,  if  I  may 
so  speak,  having  no  resemblance  to  any  other  kind  in  its 
manifestations,  but  which  is  not  less  the  same  power 
producing  other  results  because  exercised  under  different 
conditions. 

The  few  remarks  we  have  made  to-day  are  quite  suf- 
ficient to  give  you  an  idea  of  the  possible  transformations 
of  one  and  the  same  power.  You  have,  I  presume,  no 
longer  any  doubt  regarding  the  intimate  relationship 
existing  between  magnetism  and  electricity  ;  and.  yet  I 
have  not  said  all,  for  I  might  have  shown  you  how  elec- 
tric currents  may  be  produced  by  magnets,  in  the  same 
way  as  we  make  magnets  with  electric  currents.  A 
magnet  is  therefore,  in  reality,  a  permanent  battery ; 
and  scientific  men  have  so  perfectly  understood  this,  that 
they  have  given  the  name  of  poles  to  the  two  extremities 
of  the  pile  ;  the  positive  and  the  negative.  But  what 
a  difference !  This  battery  is  under  your  control.  You 
can  touch  the  two  poles  at  the  same  moment,  and  put 
them  in  contact  with  a  variety  of  bodies  which  would 
produce  marvelous  results  if  acted  on  by  an  ordinary 
pile.  Nothing  stirs,  nothing  reveals  the  presence  of  the 
marvelous  virtue  sleeping  imprisoned  within  it.  Iron 
alone  has  the  privilege  of  awaking  the  beautiful  sleeper ;  it 
alone  can  set  it  working ;  it  alone  can  harbor  it.  What 
is  the  rqason  of  all  this  ?  We  know  nothing  about  it. 
10* 


226  ELECTRICITY. 

What  is  the  peculiar  property  of  animal  electricity, 
since  I  must  give  it  its  proper  name  ?  We  know  nothing 
of  it  either.  I  thought  I  would  tell  you  this  beforehand, 
lest  you  should  come  with  exaggerated  hopes  to.  the  study 
we  are  just  entering  on. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  NERVES  AND  SPINAL  MARROW. 

I  REMEMBER  seeing,  in  the  manager's  office  of  one  of 
the  first-class  hotels  on  the  German  border  of  the  Rhine, 
a  large  frame,  the  interior  of  which  was  furnished  with 
a  variety  of  small  labels,  one  or  other  of  which,  every 
now  and  then,  sprung  up  with  a  sharp,  quick  sound ;  they 
were  raised  by  an  invisible  wire,  and  exhibited  a  number  • 
the  number  of  some  particular  room,  as  you  may  suppose. 
The  manager,  thereupon,  stretched  his  hand  toward  a 
row  of  numbered  handles  placed  in  a  line  in  front  of  him, 
and  pulled  one  of  these,  when  a  waiter  immediately  ran 
to  attend  the  summons,  no  matter  in  what  remote  part 
of  the  house  he  was  wanted. 

In  all  this  you  have  a  representation — though  but  a 
rough  one,  it  is  true — of  what  goes  on  in  your  brain. 
From  all  parts  of  the  body  mysterious  threads  issue,  for 
the  purpose  of  carrying  all  their  demands  to  it.  The 
manager  pulls  the  handle,  and  the  waiters  are  at  once  on 
the  move. 

You  must  not,  however,  suppose  that  this  is  in  all  re- 
spects a  parallel  case.  We  are  quite  aware  from  what 
points  these  signal  wires  issue,  but  no  person  has  as  yet 
been  able  to  discover  their  precise  termination,  nor  can 
they  determine  accurately  in  what  spot  the  handles  used 
to  transmit  the  orders  are  placed.  In  fact,  the  manager 
himself  has  never  been  visible,  though  assuredly  he  exists, 
inasmuch  as  there  is  something  to  be  managed  ;  but  who 

(227) 


228  THE   NERVES   AND   SPINAL   MARROW. 

he  is,  and  the  manner  in  which  his  duties  are  performed 
in  his  office,  are  problems  still  to  be  solved. 

The  manager's  office  with  its  double  play  of  wires,  is, 
my  dear  child,  to  some  extent,  similar  to  our  nervous 
system.  We  have  now  pretty  well  examined  almost 
all  our  bodily  machinery,  and  we  cannot  terminate  our 
lesson  better  than  by  considering  that  portion  which  may 
be  called  its  very  soul.  I  speak  now  as  an  engineer 
would  do,  who  sees  a  soul  wherever  there  is  a  power, 
and  means  no  harm  in  so  speaking,  though,  it  is  true,  he 
does  not  deal  with  intelligent  powers ;  but  we  are  not 
yet  in  a  position  to  speak  about  intellect. 

I  do  not  recollect  whether  I  ever  told  you  what  is 
meant  by  a  system ;  at  any  rate  the  explanation  will  not 
be  inappropriate  here. 

In  philosophy,  a  system  is  an  assemblage  of  ideas  in 
harmony  with  each  other,  uniting  in  concert  to  establish 
a  doctrine.  In  physiology  it  is  a  series  of  organs  similar 
in  structure,  all  accomplishing  the  same  function,  or,  if 
you  prefer  the  term,  all  occupied  with  the  same  work. 
Thus  the  assemblage  of  bones  supporting  the  body  con- 
stitutes the  osseous  system ;  the  assemblage  of  muscles 
giving  it  motion  is  the  muscular  system,  and  so  on. 

Now  a  vast  number  of  duties  are  required  to  be  per- 
formed by  this  nervous  system,  of  which  I  find  myself 
forced  to  speak  to  you,  much  to  my  regret,  I  can  tell  you  ; 
for  the  more  I  reflect,  the  more  I  read  and  re-read  my 
masters,  the  more  I  hesitate  as  to  what  I  am  to  say  to 
you  about  it. 

First,  then,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  it  is  an  electrify- 
ing apparatus,  and  in  this  capacity  it  presides  over  the 
contractions  of  the  muscles,  which,  to  my  idea,  are  noth- 
ing more  than  electric  phenomena  of  a  peculiar  nature. 

Next,  it  is  an  interpreter,  informing  us  of  what  takes 


THE   NERVES   AND    SPINAL   MARROW.  229 

place  within  and  without  us,  telling  us  this  in  a  very 
simple  way,  by  the  pleasure  or  the  pain  which  attends 
each  of  its  revelations. 

Lastly,  it  is,  what  shall  I  call  it?  an  indispensable 
condition  without  which  we  can  neither  think  nor  will ; 
it  is  to  us  the  organ  of  thought  and  will. 

In  all  this  we  have  just  now  only  one  thing  to  consider, 
undeniably  the  easiest,  namely,  the  part  which  the  nervous 
system  plays  in  connection  with  our  movements.  This 
will  complete  our  history  of  the  walking  machine,  which 
has  for  so  long  a  time  occupied  our  attention.  Another 
subject  will  immediately  follow,  which,  if  I  were  simply 
a  naturalist,  I  would  call  "The  history  of  the  feeling  and 
thinking  machine  ;"  but  it  is  not  a  very  attractive  title, 
and  would  be  as  repugnant  to  you  as  to  me ;  besides,  it 
would  not  be  correct,  for  concealed  beneath  the  visible 
machine  lies  the  invisible  ;  so  let  us  call  it  "The  history 
of  sensation  and  thought." 

Let  us  now  rapidly  glance  at  the  ensemble  of  this 
wonderful  apparatus,  which  plays  such  an  important  part 
in  our  economy,  and  leave  the  details  to  follow  in  propor- 
tion as  they  become  necessary. 

Imagine  a  number  of  threads,  the  fibres  of  which  being 
untwisted  from  below  become  entangled  in  all  directions, 
and  so  entwine  themselves  as  to  form  small  strings  at 
first,  then  small  cords  communicating  from  all  sides  with 
a  kind  of  centre  cord  where  they  are  bundled  together. 
This  is  the  simplest  idea  I  can  give  you  of  the  nerves  and 
of  the  spinal  marrow  where  they  all  meet. 

These  scattered  nerve  fibres,  which  when  united  form 
nervous  cords,  are  extremely  minute.  The  keenest  eye 
is  quite  unable  to  discern  them ;  however,  thanks  to  the 
microscope,  we  know  pretty  well  how  they  are  formed. 


230  THE  NERVES   AND   SPINAL  MARROW. 

Have  you  ever  amused  yourself  by  noticing  to  what 
an  extent  a  string  of  treacle  hanging  from  a  piece  of 
bread  may  be  stretched?  Just  imagine  one  of  these 
strings  elongated  until  it  becomes  invisible  to  the  naked 
eye,  and  encased  in  a  fibrous  transparent  sheath.  This 
will  give  you  a  very  tolerable  idea  of  the  appearance  of 
nerve  fibre  in  an  elementary  state,  as  seen  through  the 
microscope.  Gratiolet,  in  his  beautiful  book  on  the 
nervous  system,  compares  the  interior  of  the  fibre  to  a 
glass  thread,  which  bears  some  resemblance  to  our 
thread  of  treacle,  as  I  presume  he  refers  to  melted  glass. 

It  is  this  minute,  imperceptible,  transparent  thread 
which  is  the  important  element  of  the  nervous  fibre  ;  the 
agent  of  life,  I  should  say ;  and  each  fibre  is  under  the 
direction  of  that  part  of  the  body  whence  it  proceeds, 
which  it  puts  in  communication  with  the  centre  ;  now  to 
carry  messages  to  it,  now  to  bring  back  orders. 

These  fibres  all  run  parallel  to  each  other  along  the 
nervous  cords,  where  they  are  enclosed  in  a  common 
sheath,  and  there  remain,  each  as  direct  and  separate 
from  its  neighbor,  as  the  different  threads  of  a  skein  are 
from  each  other.  .  They  thus  reach  the  spinal  marrow, 
and  continue  their  course  to  the  base  of  the  brain,  at 
which  point  you  can  no  longer  follow  them,  and  they  be- 
come lost  in  the  inextricable  labyrinth  of  fibres  inter- 
secting one  another  in  every  direction  in  this  mysterious 
region.  Thirty-one  pairs  of  nerves  emerge  right  and 
left,  from  the  spinal  marrow  through  small  holes  or 
openings  at  either  side,  the  whole  length  of  the  vertebral 
column,  at  the  points  where  the  vertebrae  unite.  They 
are  like  so  many  little  doors,  by  which  the  agents  of  life 
scattered  through  the  body,  reach  the  universal  meeting 
place  in  compact  battalions ;  but  at  the  moment  of  entry, 
those  agents  divide  in  each  nerve  into  two  bands,  each 


THE   NERVES   AND   SPINAL   MARROW.  231 

of  which  branches  off  into  different  directions.  The  one 
glides  into  the  spinal  marrow,  at  the  edge  adjoining  the 
base  of  the  vertebral  column,  the  other  by  the  edge  in 
proximity  to  the  dorsal  apophyses,  if  you  have  not  for- 
gotten these  old  friends.  I  would  call  your  attention, 
en  passant,  to  this  division  made  by  the  nerves  as  they 
approach  the  marrow.  You  will  see  by  and  by  that 
something  very  curious  is  hidden  beneath  all  this. 

These  two  portions  of  the  marrow — that  in  front  and 
that  behind,  or  the  anterior  and  posterior  portions — are 
separated  from  each  other  by  a  deep  fissure  which  runs 
down  the  two  sides.  Another  furrow,  deeper  still,  di- 
vides it  in  the  middle  throughout  its  entire  length  into 
two  equal  parts  ;  so  that  in  reality  we  possess  two  mar- 
rows ;  one  to  the  right  and  the  other  to  the  left.  If  you 
have  been  able  to  keep  in  your  mind  what  I  told  you  in 
my  long  explanations  of  the  median  line,  this  arrange- 
ment will  not  surprise  you.  You  are  aware  that  your 
body  is  composed  of  two  halves  exactly  equal,  at  least 
in  all  that  concerns  the  walking  machine  ;  it  is  therefore 
fair  that  each  half  should  possess  its  particular  marrow. 

Each  of  these  two  marrows  is,  in  its  turn,  composed  of 
two  substances.  Everything,  then,  is  in  couples.  The 
one  is  of  a  gray  color,  forming  the  nucleus  ;  the  other  is 
white,  serving  as  an  envelope  to  the  gray.  Their  con- 
sistency is  about  the  same,  resembling  pulp.  Just  imag- 
ine two  custards  of  different  colors,  the  one  enclosed 
within  the  other. 

Probably  all  this  affords  you  but  little  interest,  my 
dear  child  ;  but  have  patience.  You  may  consider  this 
a  kind  of  geographical  lesson,  the  historical  one  will 
follow  in  due  order,  but  it  was  necessary  beforehand  to 
introduce  you  to  the  theatre  of  action,  so  as  to  be  able 
to  make  you  understand  what  follows.  Historians 


232  THE   NERVES   AND   SPINAL  MARROW. 

adopt  this  plan  when  they  come  to  great  battles,  and 
the  nervous  system  is  our  great  field  of  battle ;  it  is 
there  where  the  meeting  takes  place  between  mind  and 
matter,  to  express  to  you,  in  familiar  language,  an 
idea  that  escapes  when  we  wish  to  lay  hold  of  it. 

Now  it  seems  that  this  meeting  takes  place  in  these 
two  substances,  the  white  and  the  gray,  which  we  shall 
presently  fhd  spreading  out  at  their  ease  in  the  brain. 
I  may  as  well  tell  you  beforehand,  it  will  increase  your 
interest  in  them. 

Lastly,  to  end  this  description,  which  I  am  curtailing 
as  much  as  possible,  there  is  a  triple  membrane  surround- 
ing this  precious  and  delicate  assemblage  upon  which 
our  life  depends,  and  which  were  it  less  carefully  packed 
up,  would  be  injured  by  the  smallest  shock.  The  term 
packed  up,  seems  rather  trivial,  but  I  cannot  find  one 
more  fitting. 

The  membranes  are  somewhat  oddly  named ;  but 
never  mind,  I  will  give  them  as  they  are. 

That  forming  the  immediate  investment  of  the  spinal 
cord  is  called  the  pia  mater  ;  you  need  not  appeal  to  me 
for  an  explanation  of  the  expression,  I  have  never  yet 
met  with  one.  This  pia  mater,  to  speak  correctly,  is 
only  a  prolongation  of  the  fibrous  sheath,  which  acts  as 
a  common  envelope  to  the  nervous  fibres,  which  extends 
along  the  marrow,  when  they  penetrate  to  it.  It  holds 
its  contents  very  tightly  together,  so  much  so,  that,  in 
the  event  of  the  smallest  rupture  to  the  envelope,  a  pro- 
tuberance is  visible  from  the  outside,  and  this  support 
gives  it  a  certain  consistency,  and  in  case  of  a  shock, 
keeps  all  in  its  place. 

The  dura  mater,  a  name  of  the  same  class  as  the  pre- 
ceding, forms,  above  the  immediate  envelope  of  the  mar- 
row, a  second  fibrous  tube,  much  more  voluminous  than 


THE   NERVES   AND   SPINAL   MARROW.  233 

the  marrow,  which  would  oscillate  in  it,  in  a  most  dis- 
agreeable manner  for  us,  without  an  admirable  arrange- 
ment of  Nature,  who  has  converted  this  dangerous  void 
into  an  additional  security. 

For  this  purpose,  the  inner  surface  of  the  dura  mater 
is  lined  by  one  of  those  serous*  membranes,  of  which  I 
have  already  had  occasion  to  speak  when  treating  of  the 
synovia  in  the  joints,  which  incessantly  distil  a  fluid 
drawn  from  the  serum  of  the  blood.  This  liquid  fills  up 
the  intervening  space  between  the  two  envelopes  ;  and 
when  you  have  to  trust  anything  very  fragile  on  a  long 
journey,  I  think  you  can  conceive  no  safer  or  more  sim- 
ple mode  of  packing  it,  especially  if  you  adopt  the  pre- 
caution taken  in  this  instance  ;  for  on  all  sides,  and  all 
along  the  canal  where  the  marrow  swims,  as  it  were,  a 
resisting  ligament  stretches  from  one  edge  to  the  other, 
which  controls  the  marrow,  and  retains  it  exactly  in  the 
centre  of  its  liquid  protector. 

For  greater  security,  the  dura  mater  does  not  fit  ex- 
actly to  the  sides  of  the  osseous  canal  of  the  vertebral 
column ;  if  it  did,  the  various  shocks  to  which  we  are 
liable,  would  be  too  suddenly  transmitted  to  the  cord  ; 
it  is  round,  and  the  canal  is  triangular.  The  interval 
between  them,  caused  by  this  difference  in  form,  is  filled 
up  by  a  sort  of  stuffing,  composed  of  the  soft  tissue, 
which  adheres  to  the  bone  on  one  side,  and  to  the  mem- 
brane on  the  other  ;  and  this,  you  will  readily  believe, 
goes  far  more  toward  breaking  a  shock,  than  any  amount 
of  hay  can  do  in  a  hamper  of  goods. 

Nothing  short  of  all  this  it  required,  my  little  friend, 
to  enable  you  to  use  your  skipping  rope  as  you  do.  The 
poor  little  pulp  that  you  carry  all  along  your  back  would 

*  This  membrane,  of  an  exceedingly  fine  texture,  is  called  in 
Greek  "  arachnoid,"  moaning  spider's  web. 


234  THE  NERVES  AND   SPINAL  MARROW. 

not  make  much  resistance  there  had  it  been  left  at  per- 
fect liberty  in  the  vertebral  canal,  like  a  chocolate 
cream  in  its  crust. 

One  word  more  about  the  marrow,  and  we  shall  have 
done  with  it. 

It  does  not  descend  to  the  lowest  point  of  the  verte- 
bral canal,  at  least  not  in  the  same  manner  as  I  have 
described  it.  Reckoning  from  the  second  lumbar  verte- 
bra, below  the  spot  where  it  receives  the  nerves  of  the 
legs,  it  sends  off  prolongations,  the  appearance  of  which 
has  suggested  the  somewhat  disrespectful  name  of  horse- 
tail. In  the  upper  part  of  the  loins,  where  the  nerves 
of  the  legs  centre,  a  perceptible  enlargement  occurs,  it 
then  decreases,  swelling  out  again  at  the  lower  part  of 
the  neck,  where  it  receives  the  nerves.  Lastly,  it  again 
diminishes  in  size,  as  it  approaches  the  occipital  opening, 
through  which  it  passes  into  the  cranium  ;  but  this  pas- 
sage once  effected,  the  enlargement  increases  so  much, 
that  it  is  no  longer  recognizable ;  it  then  loses  its 
former  name,  and  is  henceforth  called  the  brain. 

Such  changes  often  take  place  in  upstarts,  who,  when 
they  become  important  personages,  assume  a  new  name. 
On  this  occasion,  we  have,  to  speak  the  truth,  to  do 
with  a  very  great  personage,  so  superior  in  his  new  rank 
to  what  he  formerly  was,  that  one  may  conscientiously 
adopt  the  change. 

We  are  now  going  to  examine  it  with  the  attention  it 
merits. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE   BRAIN. 

HERE  we  are  in  the  manager's  office.  I  forewarn  you 
it  is  a  somewhat  dark  place,  but  we  shall  see  well 
enough  for  this  once ;  we  have  only  to  make  an  inven- 
tory. I  shall  say  nothing  when  we  come  to  ransack  the 
drawers. 

You  probably  think  that  the  best  way  to  ascertain 
what  lies  beneath  the  skull  will  be  to  remove  the  lid 
carefully  and  look  within.  If  you  adopt  this  plan 
you  will  be  disappointed ;  what  you  would  find  is 
simply  a  covering  to  that  which  lies  beneath.  You 
would  only  discover  a  grayish  ca.p  divided  in  the  centre 
and  furrowed  by  large  zig-zag  folds  in  all  directions, 
which  might  even  be  mistaken  for  a  portion  of  the  in- 
testines rolled  up.  This  is  not  the  place,  then,  from 
which  to  commence  your  inspection. 

When  we  wish  to  examine  the  interior  of  a  house  we 
do  not  climb  upon  the  roof,  we  enter  by  the  door  ;  that 
is  what  we  must  do  now. 

Suppose  we  glide  in  with  the  marrow  through  the 
occipital  opening,  we  shall  then  be  very  well  situated  to 
commence  our  observations. 

Here  we  are,  then,  immediately  above  this  irregular 
mass  of  protuberances,  of  points,  and  bony  knobs  form- 
ing the  base  of  the  skull  •  and  from  a  description  of 
all  of  which  I  have  hitherto  recoiled,  when  studying 
this  rugged  part  of  the  skeleton.  As  the  brain  is  moulded 

(235) 


236  THE   BRAIN. 

by  the  skull,  or,  to  be  more  exact,  the  skull  by  the 
brain,  you  must  already  conclude  that  we  shall  have  to 
encounter  all  sorts  of  irregularities . 

Hardly  has  the  marrow  made  its  way  through  the  en- 
trance, than  it  begins  to  expand.  It  continues  increas- 
ing so  as  to  form  a  kind  of  rounded  pyramid  ;  this  is,  in 
fact,  the  name  given  to  each  of  the  two  halves  of  this 
part  of  the  marrow,  for  it  still  continues  to  be  marrow, 
although  it  has  penetrated  within  the  skull.  In  this 
region  it  preserves  its  general  type  so  distinctly,  that  a 
mistake  is  impossible  ;  thus  it  is  here  called  elongated 
marrow,  or  medulla  oblongata,  by  anatomists. 

It  there  receives  one  upon  another,  within  a  very 
small  compass,  seven  pairs  of  nerves,  which  proceed  from 
the  tongue,  the  mouth,  the  ear,  and  the  face.  The  ser- 
vice is  far  more  active  in  this  region  than  it  is  along 
the  vertebral  column  ;  it  is  quite  natural  to  meet  with 
an  increased  number  of  the  manager's  advertising  wires 
here. 

I  told  you  in  my  last  chapter  that  the  nervous  fibres, 
coming  from  all  parts  of  the  body,  continue  to  traverse 
the  entire  length  of  the  marrow  toward  the  brain.  Ar- 
rived at  the  top  of  our  pyramid,  they  there  perform  a 
curious  evolution.  Those  coming  from  the  right  side  of 
the  body  pass  to  the  left,  while  those  coming  from  the 
left  take  the  right  side.  You  will  see  later  on  the  result 
of  this  crossing  of  the  fibres,  which  the  investigating 
scalpel  of  the  anatomist  has  discovered  far  in  the  depths 
of  the  pyramid  where  it  slyly  takes  place. 

This  sleight-of-hand  trick  accomplished,  the  great 
transformation  commences. 

The  upper  part  of  the  marrow  expanding  to  a  very 
considerable  extent,  bursts  forth  to  right  and  left,  and 
becomes  the  cerebellum. 


THE   BRAIN.  237 

Put  your  hand  upon  the  projection  made  "by  the  back 
of  the  skull  above  the  neck — that  is  the  seat  of  the  cere- 
bellum, or  small  brain.  It  is  really  a  kind  of  small 
brain  quite  distinct  from  the  large  one,  beneath  which  it 
disappears  when  we  look  at  the  cerebral  mass  from  above, 
and  which  has  its  own  particular  form  as  well,  no  doubt, 
as  its  own  special  function. 

It  has  a  furrowed  or  puckered  surface,  resembling  that 
of  the  real  brain,  but  the  folds  here  are  quite  differently 
disposed.  They  have  been  compared  to  the  leaves  of  a 
book.  I  own  I  have  examined  them  very  carefully,  and 
can  in  no  way  trace  any  such  resemblance  thereto.  Fold 
a  dark-gray  shawl  very  small,  and  gather  up  the  folds 
so  as  to  make  a  rounded  buffer  of  it  with  a  hollow  in 
the  centre,  and  then  you  will  have  something  that  will 
give  you  a  far  better  idea  of  the  appearance  of  the  cere- 
bellum than  the  leaves  of  a  book,  however  crumpled  they 
may  be. 

I  advised  you  to  choose  a  gray  shawl,  because  the  cere- 
bellum is  composed  of  this  gray  substance  constituting 
the  nucleus  of  the  spinal  marrow,  but  it  is  traversed  in 
the  interior  by  threads  of  a  white  substance,  so  arranged 
that  when  the  organ  is  cut  from  above  downward 
through  the  centre,  a  distinct  regular  outline  of  a  leaf 
with  all  its  fibres  is  discernible.  From  this  design 
anatomists  in  a  poetic  moment  gave  it  the  name  of 
arbor  vitse. 

Must  I  say  it,  my  dear  child  ?  Your  cerebellum  is 
very  small,  much  smaller  by  comparison  than  mine,  which 
ought  to  be  about  one-eighth  of  the  total  mass  of  sub- 
stance lodged  in  my  skull.  I  say  about,  because  there  is 
no  fixed  rule  for  it,  and  you  can  readily  understand  the 
impossibility  of  obtaining  the  accurate  weight  of  any  one 
portion  of  a  living  person's  body.  It  is  an  organ  that 


238  THE   BRAIN. 

requires  time  to  mature,  just  as  the  bones  do.  It  waits 
to  begin  its  ordinary  development  until  the  time  when 
we  look  for  down  upon  youths'  cheeks,  and  expect  young 
ladies  to  become  reasonable. 

The  cerebellum  is  divided  into  two  equal  parts.  This 
being  the  invariable  rule  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  of 
the  median  line,  I  should  not  waste  my  time  in  again 
alluding  to  the  fact,  had  I  not  some  reason  for  so  doing. 
These  two  halves  are  united  underneath,  by  a  large 
bundle  of  white  substance  which  rests  against  the  base 
of  the  skull,  concealing  what  remains  of  the  medulla  ob- 
longata,  over  which  it  passes,  like  the  arch  of  a  little 
bridge  thrown  across  a  stream. 

The  marrow  as  if  taken  prisoner,  enclosed  within  a 
ring  between  the  cerebellum  which  overhangs  it  and  its 
uniting  bundle,  disappears  at  this  point.  For  this  rea- 
son, the  bundle  projecting  beyond  the  cerebellum  has 
been  called  the  annular  protuberance ;  but  it  has  also 
another  name,  and  one  you  will  more  readily  remem- 
ber, viz.,  the  pons  Yarolii. 

There  are  favored  hours  in  science  as  well  as  in  all 
other  things.  Happy  he  who  succeeds  in  making  use- 
ful discoveries.  This  Varolius,  who  has  stamped  his  name 
under  all  our  skulls,  immortalized  himself  at  a  very 
small  cost,  with  this  bundle  of  the  cerebellum.  The  dis- 
covery was  by  no  means  a  very  difficult  one.  In  my  last 
letter  to  you  I  spoke  about  geography.  Varolius  flour- 
ished in  the  sixteenth  century,  the  period  of  great  geo- 
graphical discoveries  in  the  human  body  as  well  as  upon 
the  globe.  He  lived  at  the  time  when  anatomy  was  only 
in  its  infancy  and  its  discoveries  at  their  dawn,  and  thus 
had  the  good  fortune  to  be  one  of  the  first  who  deline- 
ated a  map  of  the  brain,  upon  which  he  inscribed  his 
own  name,  as  invariably  happens  in  similar  cases.  It  is 


THE   BRAIN.  239 

however,  a  map  as  valuable  as  any  other  ;  and  when  the 
progress  of  general  instruction  shall  have  placed  every 
one  in  a  position  to  see  their  way  within  the  labyrinth 
of  the  brain,  I  do  not  know  that  I  would  exchange  the 
honor  of  discovering  the  pons  Yarolii  for  that  of  the  dis- 
covery of  the  strait  of  its  contemporary,  Magellan.  Sci- 
entific men  in  the  present  day  have  no  such  good  fortune 
to  expect.  The  geography  of  the  brain  is  complete  or 
very  nearly  so,  and  discoveries  there  are  as  unlikely  as 
in  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  It  is  true  that  in  the  time  of 
Varolius,  anatomical  experiments  were  sometimes  as 
dangerous  as  the  expeditions  of  those  intrepid  navigators 
who  made  the  tour  of  the  world  in  mere  shells  of  ships. 
Anatomical  investigations  might  have  brought  their 
authors  to  the  stake.  It  is  said  that  the  illustrious.  Ye- 
salius,  who  placed  the  scalpel  in  the  hands  of  Yarolius, 
was  obliged,  while  giving  his  first  lessons,  to  conceal 
himself  as  if  he  had  been  a  malefactor.  The  conserva- 
tors of  ignorance,  in  those  days,  raised  the  hue  and  cry 
of  profanation  •  and  some  of  them  may  charge  me  with 

the  same  thing  for  having  attempted But  we 

have  gossiped  enough  on  this  point ;  let  us  now  return 
to  the  marrow  : — 

It  reappears  beyond  the  bridge  of  Yarolius,  in  the 
form  of  two  little  thick  cords,  which  unite  and  form  a 
mass,  the  irregularities  on  the  surface  of  which  furnished 
a  fine  field  for  the  play  of  the  imagination  of  early  inves- 
tigators. They  saw  in  them  all  kinds  of  resemblances 
which  I  need  not  allude  to  here,  particularly  as  up  to  the 
present  day,  we  have  been  unable  to  discover  what  is 
the  exact  part  these  hollows  and  elevations  perform  in 
the  human  machine,  the  outlandish  names  of  which  would 
teach  you  nothing. 

The  whole  terminates  in  four  small  eminences,  which 


240  THE   BRAIN. 

are  designated  optic  lobes  ;  the  term  sufficiently  explains 
their  use.  They  preside  over  the  sight ;  and  it  is  here 
that  the  principal  branches  of  the  nerve  of  the  eye  are 
united  to  the  central  organ  ;  the  nerve,  I  mean,  through 
the  medium  of  which  we  see  ;  for  in  addition  to  this,  the 
eye  has  other  nerves  to  which  it  owes  its  exquisite 
sensibility  and  its  variety  of  movements. 

The  region  of  the  optic  lobes  is,  we  may  say,  the  up- 
per extremity  of  the  marrow  which  stops  here.  We, 
however,  have  not  quite  finished  with  it  yet. 

Do  you  remember  what  I  once  said  to  you  regarding 
the  bone  of  the  nose,  that  rudimentary  vertebra  which  I 
represented  to  you  as  "the  last  effort  of  nature  in 
its  completion  of  the  vertebral  column  "  (see  Chapter 
VIII.,  on  the  head  and  chest.)  Well,  the  idea  I 
wished  to  give  you  in  that  instance,  finds  a  sort  of  con- 
firmation here.  There  is  also  a  last  effort  at  construc- 
tion in  the  marrow  when  it  reaches  its  extreme  limit. 
Two  horns  branch  out  from  its  extremity,  of  which  they 
seem  like  a  prolongation,  and  can  you  guess  what  they 
are  ?  They  are  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  olfactory 
nerves,*  which,  terminating  at  the  upper  part  of  the  nose, 
preside  over  the  sense  of  smell. 

Before  ending  in  this  rudimentary  nasal  vertebra,  the 
vertebral  column  rises  in  an  arch,  thus  forming  the  skull. 
The  same  with  the  marrow  ;  before  producing  the 
olfactory  nerves  with  their  bulbs,  it  gives  birth  to  the 
marvellous  guest  for  which  the  skull  has  been  con- 
structed. 

I  have  not  given  you  the  names  of  these  two  thick 
cords  which  spring  from  beneath  the  pons  Varolii,  the 
bridge  of  Varolius  ;  they  are  called  the  peduncles  of  the 
brain.  I  conclude  you  have  learned  enough  of  botany  to 

*  Olfactory,  from  the  Latin  word,  olfacere,  to  smell. 


THE   BRAIN.  241 

understand  the  meaning  of  the  word  peduncle.  It  is 
what  is  commonly  called  the  stalk,  that  by  which  the 
fruit  is  attached  to  the  tree ;  but  never  peduncle  bore 
fruit  equal  to  that  which  grows  here  on  the  marrow. 
Whilst  its  lower  part  continues  to  thread  its  way  dis- 
tinctly along  the  base  of  the  skull,  the  peduncle  spreads 
itself  upward,  and  projecting  its  fibres  in  every  direc- 
tion, loses  itself  in  the  expanded  mass  of  the  brain 
proper. 


11 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
THE   BRAIN — (Continued). 

IT  is  a  pity  that  for  this  once  we  must  confine  ourselves 
to  a  description  of  the  brain !  There  are  many  subjects 
more  amusing  than  this ;  nevertheless  it  may  interest 
you  to  learn  something  about  the  formation  of  an  organ 
which  is,  without  doubt,  the  noblest  if  not  the  most 
essential  of  the  whole  body ;  that  one  in  which  resides — 
do  not  take  it  amiss — your  little  self;  for  were  it  to 
cease  working,  all  that  would  remain  of  you  would  be  a 
mere  machine,  unconscious  of  everything,  even  of  your 
oWn  existence.  Your  body  may  be  considered  as  your 
house,  but  your  brain  is  your  chamber,  your  own  private 
corner.  You  will  not  complain,  then,  I  am  sure,  of  the 
hurried  glance  we  are  going  to  take  of  it. 

The  brain  being  placed  upon  the  median  line,  it  natur-s 
ally  follows  that,  like  the  cerebellum,  the  marrow,  and 
other  portions  of  the  body,  it  is  also  divided  into  two 
equal  parts.  Only  in  this  instance,  the  line  of  partition 
is  more  strongly  marked  than  elsewhere.  The  cerebral 
hemispheres^such  is  the  name  given  to  these  two  halves 
— are  separated,  the  one  from  the  other,  by  a  deep  fur- 
row, which  descends  almost  half  way  to  the  base  of  the 
skull.  It  is  only  at  the  base  that  they  unite  on  a  layer 
of  white  substance,  called  the  corpus  callosum,  or  callous 
body,  a  name  that  I  should  feel  puzzled  about  if  called 
upon  for  an  explanation.  I  fully  understand — and  most 
probably  you  do  also — what  is  meant  when  one  speaks 
(242) 


THE  BRAIN.  243 

of  a  callous  hand ;  but  as  for  this  callous  body,  which  is 
nothing  more  than  a  thin,  delicate  slice  of  brain,  I  own 
that  I  know  not  for  what  reason  it  has  been  so  named. 

I  spoke  to  you  about  the  three  vertebras  which  are  to 
be  found  in  the  skull.  This  division  has  its  parallel  in 
the  brain,  which  is  transversely  divided  into  three  lobes, 
as  they  are  called ;  the  anterior  lobe,  which  is  formed 
under  the  frontal  bone  ;  the  posterior,  under  the  occipital ; 
and  the  median,  which  corresponds  to  the  parietal  bone. 

To  be  honest  with  you,  my  dear  child,  very  minute  in- 
spection is  necessary  to  recognise,  amid  the  numerous 
furrows  visible  on  the  surface  of  the  brain,  the  respec- 
tive limits  of  these  three  lobes  ;  above  all,  that  of  the 
two  last  named ;  it  being,  between  ourselves,  a  somewhat 
conventional  limit.  I  strongly  suspect  that  anatomists 
have  taken  the  same  liberty  in  the  construction  of  their 
chart,  as  diplomatists  sometimes  do  with  theirs ;  with 
the  best  will  in  the  world  I  have  the  greatest  difficulty 
imaginable  to  see  in  the  line  which  they  have  invented, 
anything  which  might  be  called  a  natural  boundary  or 
frontier.  As  to  the  line  of  demarcation  on  the  frontal 
lobe,  that  is  quite  another  affair.  Nature  has  marked  it 
by  a  fissure  or  furrow  much  deeper  than  the  others ;  it 
bears  the  name  of  the  Fissure  of  Sylvius.  You  must  also 
bear  this  name  in  mind,  for  Sylvius,  like  Varolius,  was 
one  of  those  happy  and  fortunate  individuals  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  who  founded  modern  anatomy ;  but  the 
former  has  the  superiority  over  the  latter,  inasmuch  as 
he  was  not  the  disciple  but  the  master  of  Yesalius. 

I  have  already  informed  you  that  the  whole  surface  of 
the  brain  has  the  appearance  of  a  grayish  mass  ;  the  in- 
tejior  is  white.  Here  we  again  encounter  the  two  sub- 
stances which  I  pointed  out  to  you  in  the  marrow;  the 
gray  and  the  white ;  only  in  the  present  instance  their 


244  THE  BRAIN. 

positions  are  changed.  We  now  find  that  the  white  sub- 
stance which  in  the  marrow  covered  the  gray,  is  here 
covered  by  the  gray.  A  thin  layer  of  this  gray  substance 
extends  over  the  entire  surface  of  the  three  lobes,  and 
may  be  compared  to  a  species  of  bark,  from  which  cir- 
cumstance its  somewhat  singular  name  of  cortical  is  de- 
rived. And  now  I  must  tell  you,  my  dear  child,  that 
this  cortical  substance  has  the  honor  of  being  considered 
as  the  seat  of  intelligence,  and  it  is  not  at  all  improba- 
ble that  it  may  be  so,  After  that,  how  can  you  judge 
people  by  their  names ! 

The  white  substance  which  fills  the  interior  of  these 
two  hemispheres  is  not  a  compact  mass.  You  must  have 
observed  what  large  holes  you  sometimes  find  in  your 
breakfast  roll ;  a  most  unwelcome  discovery  to  a  very 
hungry  child.  Well,  a  similar  vacuum  exists  in  each  of 
these  two  hemispheres,  and  one  might  truthfully  exclaim, 
What  wonderful  economy  Nature  has  employed  iq  her 
arrangement  of  the  brain !  Most  assuredly  it  is  all  wisely 
ordered  for  our  good,  else  why  should  she  have  placed 
a  passage  of  communication  between  the  exterior  surface 
of  th,e  hemisphere  and  its  interior  cavity,  upon  the  walls 
of  which  the  highly-favored  cortical  substance  is  con- 
tinued. The  intelligent  bark — you  understand  what  I 
mean  by  the  expression — is  thus  allowed  fuller  scope  for 
its  development.  From  this  circumstance  you  will  also 
perceive  how  unsuitable  the  term  empty-headed  is,  in  the 
way  we  frequently  hear  it  employed,  to  convey  anything 
but  a  compliment.  All  of  us,  without  distinction,  have 
empty  spaces  in  our  heads ;  and  were  the  brain  a  com- 
pact mass,  it  is  to  be  presumed  we  should  gain  nothing 
by  it. 

The  cavities  of  the  two  hemispheres,  like  those  of  the 
heart,  are  named  ventricles.  They  are  also  called  lateral 


THE  BRAIN.  245 

ventricles,  from  their  being  one  on  either  side.  Exactly 
at  the  base  of  the  brain,  underneath  the  callous  body,  is 
a  third  cavity,  known  as  the  middle  ventricle ;  and  lastly, 
the  cerebellum  has  its  own  ventricle,  communicating  with 
the  middle  one  by  means  of  a  kind  of  passage  which,  ex- 
tending over  the  prolongation  of  the  marrow,  crosses  the 
pons  Varolii.  And  here  the  names  of  our  two  great  an- 
atomists are  brought  into  contact.  This  passage  of  com- 
munication is  known  as  the  Aqueduct  of  Sylvius. 

I  could  find  you  others  were  I  to  lead  you  over  the 
whole  brain ;  investigators  have  not  been  wanting  in 
this  locality.  I  must  own  I  feel  some  scruples  for  having 
introduced  you  so  far  into  such  a  labyrinth,  in  which 
people  will  perhaps  tell  me  you  have  no  business,  inas- 
much as  no  person  has  yet  been  able  to  discover  the  par- 
ticular function  each  part  of  the  brain  discharges.  How- 
ever, I  hope  you  will  not  blame  me.  Imagine  yourself 
visiting  some  ancient  temple,  belonging  to  a  creed  no 
longer  existing ;  with  what  curiosity  and  interest  you 
would  pry  into  its  crypts  and  galleries,  although  ignorant 
of  their  former  use.  And  are  you  not  equally  interested 
in  this  little  living  temple,  into  which  the  Spirit  of  the 
Almighty  descends  as  each  good  thought  ascends  ?  Can 
you  not  survey  its  details  with  a  curious  eye,  even  though 
the  meaning  may  often  be  as  a  sealed  letter  to  you  ? 

I  have  almost  finished ;  there  is  only  a  tiny  chapel  to 
introduce  you  to,  which  might  be  designated  the  sanc- 
tuary. I  hold  to  your  making  its  acquaintance ;  its  name 
is  the  pineal  gland. 

Immediately  by  the  side  of  the  callous  body,  and  upon 
the  same  line,  a  little  above  the  entrance  to  the  aqueduct 
of  Sylvius,  there  is  a  kind  of  little  gray  tubercle,  quite 
isolated  from  the  surrounding  mass,  and  which  appears 
as  if  it  had  been  thrown  there  as  an  enigma  to  be  solved. 


246  .    THE  BRAIN. 

Greek  physicians,  with  Galen  at  their  head,  misled  by 
its  peculiar  appearance,  imagined  this  pineal  gland  to 
be  the  seat  of  the  soul.  According  to  their  theory,  the 
soul  resided  there,  and  guided  the  body  much  in  the  same 
way  as  a  coachman  manages  his  horses  from  his  seat  on 
the  box.  Two  small  white  bands  proceeding  in  the 
direction  of  the  optic  lobes,  appeared  to  them  fully  to 
corroborate  this  theory,  and  were  named  the  reins  of  the 
pineal  gland.  I  should  never  have  alluded  to  this  fan- 
tastic idea,  which  like  many  others  of  its  kind  would  now 
have  been  forgotten,  had  not  a  modern  philosopher  of 
note  taken  it  into  his  head  to  revive  the  supposition,  and 
append  his  own  name  to  it.  This  was  no  other  than 
Descartes,  and  when  you  are  grown  up,  take  my  advice, 
and  read  his  work  called  "Discours  sur  la  Methode"  in 
which  our  ancestors  studied  the  art  of  reasoning.  Thanks 
to  Descartes,  the  pineal  gland  has  had  its  palmy  days, 
though  unhappily  they  are  passed  away,  and  I  truly  think 
the  soul  would  have  found  it  but  a  poor  lodging.  Small 
stones,  which  medical  men  designate  as  calculi,*  are  of- 
ten found  in  this  gland.  Bichat  once  found  the  whole 
gland  transformed  into  one  concrete  mass,  which  by  con- 
tinuing to  increase  in  size  attained  unusual  dimensions. 
You  must  agree  that  in  this  instance,  the  soul  of  him  who 
possessed  this  pineal  gland  would  have  been  ill  at  ease. 

Three  envelopes  of  the  spinal  marrow  are  found  at 
their  post  surrounding  the  brain  ;  the  pia  mater  lies  im- 
mediately over  the  organ  ;  the  dura  mater  is  placed  next 
to  the  osseous  walls  without  being  attached  to  them ;  the 
spider  web  of  the  arachnoid  is  between  the  two.  You  can 
easily  understand  that  the  marrow  in  its  transformed  state, 

*  From  the  Latin  calculus,  a  stone.  From  this  the  universal  ac- 
ceptation of  the  word  calculation  is  derived.  Roman  children  were 
always  taught  to  count  with  pebbles. 


THE  BRAIN.  247 

and  in  a  new  home,  could  hardly  be  expected  to  have  the 
same  coverings  as  it  possessed  when  in  the  vertebral 
canal.  When  a  gentlewoman  becomes  a  duchess,  she 
requires  new  associates  and  an  improved  toilette. 

With  each  pulsation  of  the  heart,  a  considerable  stream 
of  blood  is  precipitated  toward  the  brain  almost  in  a 
straight  line  ;  this  part  of  the  body  receives  a  greater 
quantity  of  blood  at  one  time  than  any  other  ;  it  is, 
moreover,  the  most  sensitive,  and  the  most  readily  de- 
ranged. A  sudden  rush  of  blood  proceeding  toward  it 
from  the  great  arteries  would  place  it  in  imminent  dan- 
ger. Nature  has  provided  against  this  disaster. 

You  have  a  little  garden  of  your  own,  and  you  know 
as  well  as  I  do  the  havock  a  watering-pot  makes 
among  a  plot  of  seeds,  if  you  neglect  the  precaution  of 
putting  on  the  rose,  which,  by  its  multitude  of  perfora- 
tions, converts  the  stream  into  a  gentle  shower.  A  some- 
what similar  precaution  has  been  adopted  here.  Before 
penetrating  the  brain,  the  arteries  employed  to  convey 
the  blood  are  subdivided  into  an  infinity  of  small  canals, 
which,  running  along,  interlace  themselves  on  its  surface, 
and  thus,  as  it  were,  they  shower  out  the  blood,  drop  by 
drop.  A  multitude  of  small  venous  canals  arranged  in 
the  same  manner  on  their  part  pump  out  the  blood,  drop 
by  drop,  through  thousands  of  thread-like  veins  as  fine 
as  hair,  after  it  has  served  its  purpose.  Thus  the  circu- 
lation of  the  blood  in  the  brain  is  effected  by  an  endless 
variety  of  arrangements,  the  result  of  which  is  to  regu- 
late, in  exact  proportion,  the. departure  as  well  as  the 
arrival  of  the  vital  fluid.  If  the  brain  is  the  great  in- 
strument of  life,  the  blood  is  its  virtuoso  ;  a  virtuoso 
whose  caprices  would  be  fraught  with  danger — if  too 
fiery  he  would  break  the  strings,  if  too  indolent  he  would 
allow  the  harmony  to  be  disturbed. 


248  THE   BRAIN. 

Now,  if  you  search  on  the  surface  of  the  brain  for  the 
pia  mater,  that  dense  covering  which  held  the  marrow  in 
the  centre  of  the  canal,  it  seems  to  have  disappeared. 
You  only  perceive,  in  its  place,  the  network  of  which  I 
have  just  spoken  to  you,  of  small  arteries  and  veins, 
scarcely  held  together  by  an  imperceptible  tissue  which 
can  hardly  be  called  a  membrane.  It  is,  however,  the 
self-same  covering  ;  and  in  order  to  satisfy  yourself  on 
this  head,  turn  to  the  entrance  of  the  occipital  opening, 
when  you  will  see  that  it  has  glided  with  its  precious 
charge  within  the  skull,  and  is  for  one  moment  recognis- 
able in  its  passage  over  the  elongated  marrow  ;  but  it 
soon  grows  thinner,  and  at  last,  somehow  or  other,  be- 
comes annihilated  by  numerous  invasions  of  small  blood- 
vessels, before  which  it  disappears.  It  is  like  a  tender 
mother  who  sees  her  child  in  imminent  danger,  and  con- 
fides him  to  the  hand  outstretched  to  rescue  him. 

Setting  out  from  this  point,  the  duty  of  immediate 
protectress,  hitherto  exercised  by  the  pia  mater/passes 
on  to  the  dura  mater,  which^in  the  skull  attains  an  ex- 
traordinary solidity  and  thickness.  Here,  there  is  no 
vacuum  between  the  dura  mater  and  the  other  parts.  It 
is  true  that  the  space  is  much  greater,  but  it  is  entirely 
filled  up  by  the  cerebral  mass,  which  slightly  touches  the 
dura  mater,  applied  closely  as  it  is  to  the  walls  of  the 
skull,  so  that  it  forms  a  kind  of  periosteum  to  them.  It 
only  leaves  them,  in  order  to  bury  itself  in  the  groove 
running  between  the  two  hemispheres  ;  its  powerful  in- 
tervention being  necessary  to  prevent  any  contusion  re- 
sulting from  the  repeated' oscillations  of  the  head,  and  to 
support  the  occipital  lobe  above  the  cerebellum  which  it 
overhangs.  You  will  find  no  difficulty  in  recollecting 
the  names  given  to  the  two  prolongations  of  the  dura 
mater  ;  they  speak  to  the  imagination.  The  first  bears 


THE   BRAIN.  249 

the  name  of  sickle,  from  its. lengthening  out  in  the  same 
sense  as  the  curve  of  the  brain.  It  pretty  nearly  resem- 
bles the  blade  of  a  sickle.  The  second  has  been  called 
the  tent  of  the  cerebellum,  from  being  stretched  over  it 
like  the  canvas  of  a  tent.  There  is  also  a  third  prolonga- 
tion, which  performs  the  same  service  for  the  two  halves 
of  the  cerebellum  that  the  sickle  does  to  the  two  hemi- 
spheres of  the  brain,  and  for  this  reason  it  is  named  the 
sickle  of  the  cerebellum  ;  but  this  latter  is  of  very  trifling 
importance  compared  with  the  other  two. 

The  dura  mater  forms  so  solid  a  covering,  and  ad- 
heres so  firmly  to^  the  organ  it  is  destined  to  protect, 
that  the  skull  may  be  broken  by  repeated  strokes  from  a 
hammer,  without  injury  to  what  lies  underneath.  I 
ought  to  mention  that  I  here  allude  to  a  lifeless  skull, 
which  has  passed  into  the  anatomist's  hands,  and  the 
hammer  is  therefore  wielded  by  a  skillful  operator.  But 
this  is  quite  sufficient  to  prove  to  you  how  closely  and 
carefully  the  cerebellum  is  packed  up  in  this  dura  mater, 
and  what  a  small  space  is  left  to  the  liquid  secreted  by 
the  arachnoid  to  be  effused  with  impunity. 

On  this  account,  inflammations  of  this  little  spider 
web,  insignificant  as  it  is  in  appearance,  so  soon  termin- 
ate fatally.  Tightly  enclosed  between  the  dura  mater 
and  the  pia  mater,  scarcely  does  it  begin  to  secrete  a  lit- 
tle more  abundantly  than  usual,  than  pressure  is  experi- 
enced on  the  brain,  the  action  of  which  is  immediately 
interfered  with.  The  whole  machine  is  thrown  into  dis- 
order, and  sometimes  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  hours,  life 
becomes  extinct,  to  the  no  small  grief  and  astonishment  of 
the  surviving  friends.  I  hardly  know,  my  dear  child,  how  I 
had  the  courage  to  enter  upon  such  a  subject  with  you  ;  it 
awakens  in  me  recollections  which  send  a  shudder  through 
my  whole  frame.  Say  nothing  of  this  to  your  mother. 
11* 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

ANIMAL    ELECTRICITY. 

LET  us  go  back  for  a  moment,  my  dear  child,  to  the 
"  History  of  a  Mouthful  of  Bread,"  which  I  took  such 
pleasure  in  relating  to  you  when  you  were  much  younger 
than  you  are  now,  and  when  we  looke^l  upon  study  as  a 
mere  diversion.  We  have  now  become  more  serious,  and 
it  is  less  amusing  I  know  very  well  ;  but  you  learn  more, 
which  is  the  essential  point ;  and  this  will  always  be  the 
case  as  you  advance  in  years.  Your  play-hours  will  be 
less  numerous,  but  if  you  are  good,  believe  me,  you  will 
be  no  loser  by  the  exchange.  The  realities  of  life,  when 
we  come  fully  to  understand  their  vast  importance,  are 
far,  very  far  superior  to  the  amusements  of  childhood. 

I  hope  you  have  not  forgotten  the  magic  steward*  I 
told  you  about  in  our  earlier  interviews,  who  distributes 
to  the  workmen  throughout  the  house  we  occupy,  our 
body,  whatever  materials  they  require,  and  whose  inex- 
haustible pockets,  continually  replenished  by  the  stom- 
ach, contain  whatever  is  necessary  to  each  individual 
organ.  I  also  told  you  how  in  proportion  as  the  con- 
structions are  effected,  the  materials  for  which  are  fur- 
nished by  the  blood,  they  disappear  of  their  own  accord, 
the  old  bricks  making  room  for  the  new  ones,  and  re- 
turning to  the  torrent  which  brought  them.  Later  on,  I 
explained  the  secret  of  animal  heat,  always  kept  up 
within  us  to  the  same  temperature,  by  reason  of  the  in- 

*  See  "  History  of  a  Mouthful  of  Bread,'*'  p.  35. 
(250) 


ANIMAL  ELECTRICITY.  251 

cessant  combustion  of  our  own  substance,  and  I  related 
some  of  the  feats  of  oxygen,  hydrogen,  carbon  and  azote, 
or  nitrogen — "  that  wonderful  quadrille  of  the  aliments* 
of  nutrition,"  which  may  be  transformed  at  will. 
Now  albumen,  then  fibrine,  again  casein,  according  as 
the  dancers  are  grouped  for  the  performance  of  different 
figures. 

Remain  perfectly  still  for  one  moment,  give  your  whole 
attention  to  yourself,  and  listen  to  the  life  going  on  with- 
in. Do  you  not  perceive  a  kind  of  general  crackling 
which  becomes  stronger  the  more  your  thought  is  fixed 
upon  it  ?  This  crackling  continues  through  life,  but  we 
are  so  accustomed  to  it  that  we  take  no  notice  of  it ; 
nor  would  there  be  any  object  in  our  concerning  our- 
selves about  it,  for  we  have  no  power  whatever  over  it. 
Nay,  on  the  contrary,  if  I  may  so  express  myself,  it  ex- 
ercises a  power  over  us — a  supreme  power  ;  for  it  is  no 
less  than  our  physical  life,  the  essential  basis  of  all  the 
others,  speaking  of  what  we  are  able  to  understand.  In 
its  depths  are  found .  intermingled,  pell-mell,  all  those 
phenomena  of  construction,  demolition,  combustion,  trans- 
formation of  the  elements  of  our  substance  from  one  to 
another,  and  all  this,  to  give  it  its  true  name,  is  only  one 
continued  course  of  chemical  action. 

I  made  use  of  the  term  chemical  action,  in  my  note 
with  reference  to  the  pile.  I  was  in  a  great  hurry  that 
day,  and  knew  its  turn  would  come,  so  I  did  not  explain 
the  term  in  its  proper  course.  Moreover,  chemical  action 
is  the  very  term  I  should  have  used  when  speaking  to 
you  of  the  union  of  bodies  ;  therefore  the  thing  itself  is 
already  known  to  you,  if  the  word  be  not. 

There  is  a  secret  power  inherent  in  every  atom  of  the 
diverse  substances  that  we  encounter.  Scientific  men 

*  See  "  History  of  a  Mouthful  of  Bread,"  p.  232. 


252  ANIMAL  ELECTEICITY. 

speak  of  it  as  affinity,  a  Latin  word  signifying  relation- 
ship, connexion,  in  virtue  of  which  they  contract  unions 
among  themselves  which  are  sometimes  lasting,  some- 
times transient,  according  to  their  particular  character, 
and  also  with  some  regard  to  the  occasion  allowed  them 
of  showing  a  fickleness  of  disposition ;  in  other  words, 
according  as  the  inducement  is  more  or  less  urgent  to 
break  off  old  alliances  and  form  new  ones.  This  going 
and  coming  of  the  atoms,  clinging  together,  separating, 
forming  friendships  elsewhere  again  to  be  broken,  is 
what  is  called  chemical  action,  because  the  name  chem- 
istry has  been  given  to  the  science  that  treats  of  these 
unions  and-  separations,  to  turn  them  to  our  profit  when 
a  body,  of  which  we  hold  the  isolated  elements,  requires 
to  be  formed,  or  to  rescue  one  element  that  only  con- 
cerns us  from  among  a  multitude  of  others  of  which  we 
have  no  need. 

I  spoke  to  you  of  all  this  at  pretty  considerable 
length,  when  I  told  you  of  the  important  services  ren- 
dered us  by  the  pile,  and  you  must  already  have  formed 
some  ideagof  the  important  part  electricity  plays  in  all 
these  arrangements.  You  have  seen  what  an  all-power- 
ful agent  it  is,  in  building  them  up  and  in  destroying 
them  ;  but  this  only  gives  you  one  side  of  the  con- 
nexion existing  between  chemical  action  and  electricity. 
If  the  combinations  of  atoms  are  formed  and  destroyed 
on  the  passage  of  the  electric  currents,  the  atoms,  in 
their  turn,  each  time  they  change  their  combinations, 
produce  electric  currents.  Thus  it  is  that  we  are  en- 
abled to  form  the  most  powerful  piles,  by  enclosing 
certain  substances  which  act  upon  one  another  in  an  ap- 
paratus suitably  arranged. 

When  these  substances  come  in  contact,  their  atoms 
mutually  invite  to  movement,  and  they  run  away  hither 


ANIMAL  ELECllftcrTY.  253 

and  thither  from  their  present  dwelling,  to  form  fresh 
alliances  amongst  themselves,  or,  in  other  words,  to  con- 
stitute a  new  body.  This  is  the  source  of  the  electricity 
of  the  pile.  Its  currents  maintain  their  energy  as  long 
as  the  dance  is  kept  up  ;  let  it  begin  to  flag,  and  at  once 
their  power  decreases.  They  disappear  directly  the 
primitive  bodies,  destroyed  and  brought  to  nought  by 
the  flight  of  their  atoms,  cease  to  furnish  to  the  new 
combination  the  aliment  necessary  to  its  continuation. 
Suppose  you  found  a  pile  which  possessed  the  power  to 
renew  its  own  provisions  of  active  substances  as  rapidly 
as  they  were  destroyed,  and  also  to  disencumber  itself 
of  their  inert  products,  the  consequence  would  be,  its 
operations  would  be  carried  on  for  an  indefinite  period, 
or  rather,  I  should  say,  as  long  as  the  work  of  renewing 
and  discharging  should  continue.  If  you  have  the 
curiosity  to  see  a  pile  of  this  description  anywhere,  look 
at  yourself,  my  dear  child ;  your  own  body  is  one. 

You  need  not  appear  so  much  astonished.  It  is  no 
cause  for  wonder  that  electric  currents  are  produced  in 
the  pretty  little  pile  that  you  form,  seeing  that  this  pile 
is  incessantly  and  in  every  part  at  the  same  moment, 
the  theatre  of  a  myriad  of  chemical  actions,  one  of  which 
would  suffice  to  produce  a  current,  though  it  might  be  a 
very  weak  one.  It  would  be  cause  for  astonishment  if 
the  laws  presiding  over  the  change  of  atoms,  through- 
out the  whole  universe,  were  found  purposely  suspended 
in  your  body,  whilst  all  others,  those  of  motion  for  ex- 
ample, exact  the  same  undeviating  respect  from  it  that 
they  are  accustomed  to  do  from  the  very  stones.  Your 
little  body,  then,  is  a  pile  because  it  is  a  chemical  labor- 
atory ;  because  it  is,  as  I  once  before  told  you,  a  stove,* 

*  The  fire  that  we  make  with  our  combustibles,  being  nothing 
more  than  a  chemical  action  of  an  extraordinary  energy,  he  who 


254  ANIMA'L  ELECTRICITY. 

and  because  it  contains  everything  that  we  require 
to  put  into  our  piles  when  we  wish  to  make  them 
work. 

Do  not  think  disparagingly  of  yourself,  if  I  appear  to 
place  you  on  a  level  with  a  scientific  apparatus.  He 
who  formed  the  human  pile  is  much  more  powerful  than 
Yolta,  Bunsen,  or  Daniell ;  more  powerful  than  all  the 
illustrious  pile-makers  put  together,  and  nothing  that  is 
imperfect  issues  from  His  hands. 

In  the  next  chapter  I  will  tell  you  wherein  lies 'the 
overwhelming  superiority  of  the  Almighty's  work  over 
ours.  You  have  had  quite  enough  to  think  about  for  to- 
day ;  fatiguing  lectures  should  be  brief. 

If  I  have  been  unable  to  resist  the  great  desire  I 
had  to  explain  some  things  which  may  be  beyond  your 
years,  it  is  because  they  shed  a  wondrous  light  on  what 
I  formerly  taught  you,  without  being  able  fully  to  carry 
it  out,  from  your  not  "knowing  anything  of  electricity. 
They  reveal  to  you  the  true  reason  of  this  perpetual 
renewal  of  our  substance,  which  lives  only  in  virtue  of 
its  continuous  destruction.  Now  you  understand  how 
the  oxygen  conveyed  in  the  blood  stirs  up  the  organs  it 
comes  to  burn,  by  inundating  them  with  electricity,  and 
I  ho  longer  require  to  teach  you  that  we  owe  not  only 
animal  heat,  but  even  life,  to  this  internal  combustion. 
As  I  proceed  to  explain  motion  to  you,  you  will  soon  see 
what  a  close  bond  unites  our  life  of  nutrition  with  that 
•  of  relation,  the  aliment  changing  into  power  as  well  as 
into  substance ;  and  that  if  the  members  are  the  ser- 
vants of  the  stomach,  the  stomach  is  also  servant  to  its 

unthinkingly  crams  his  winter  stove,  sets  incalculable  torrents  of 
electricity  in  motion.  If  scientific  men  should  one  day  take  it  into 
their  heads  to  treat  of  the  subject,  they  would  very  soon  convince 
us  of  this. 


ANIMAL   ELECTRICITY.  255 

members ;  not  onjy  because  it  nourishes  them,  but  also 
because  it  helps  them  to  walk. 

Will  you  not  candidly  own  that  all  this  information 
is  worth  a  little  fatigue  ?  And  if  your  poor  little  head 
is  wishing  for  a  rest,  thank  me,  but  do  not  scold  me. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

VOLUNTAEY  MOVEMENTS. 

I  STOPPED  just  in  time  with  our  last  chapter.  *  That 
there  is  within  us  a  production  of  electric  currents  may 
be  boldly  affirmed  from  the  simple  fact  that  the  contrary 
is  impossible,  unless,  indeed,  all  the  laws  of  the  universe 
were  reversed ;  therefore  I  felt  I  was  right  in  speaking 
to  you  with  confidence.  I  should,  however,  have  been 
obliged  to  lower  my  tone,  had  I  then  touched  on  the 
question  which  is  now  to  occupy  us  ;  viz.,  what  is  the 
action  of  these  electric  currents,  what  ends  do  they  serve, 
and  in  what  manner  are  they  directed  ?  It  is  not  pre- 
cisely suitable  for  one  of  your  age,  my  dear  child,  to  hear 
these  mysteries  discussed,  and  I  do  not  know  how  to  set 
about  presenting  you  with  an  enigma,  the  solution  of 
which  has  puzzled  stronger  heads  than  yours.  My  cour- 
age will  be  like  that  of  certain  soldiers  on  the  field  of 
battle,  who  march  forward  simply  because  their  retreat 
is  impossible. 

Have  you  ever  asked  yourself  what  is  meant  by  the 
will?  No.  I  am  sure  you  have  not.  It  is  one  of  those 
things  children  never  do  ask,  because  they  never  trouble 
themselves  about  it.  The  will  is  when  we  will  a  thing, 
•you  will  most  probably  reply.  I*have  many  a  time  re- 
ceived this  answer  during  the  years  that  I  have  taught 
a  young  ladies'  class,  and  it  is  as  good  as  one  of  a  more 
pretentious  kind.  Certain  it  is  we  have  within  us  a 
something  of  which  we  are  perfectly  conscious,  by  means 

(25G) 


VOLUNTAEY  MOVEMENTS.  257 

of  which  we  command  our  members  to  execute  move- 
ments that  are  agreeable  to  us.  To  will  does  not  suffice, 
however,  in  order  to  the  execution  of  the  movement ;  it 
would  be  far  too  easy  if  that  were  all :  with  the  best 
will  in  the  world,  when  our  strength  is  exhausted  we 
can  do  no  more.  Exhausted  strength,  what  does  that 
imply?  There  is,  then,  a  power,  which  receives  its 
orders  from  the  will,  and  executes  those  orders  whilst 
strength  permits.  If  this  power  be  not  the  electricity 
produced  within  us,  by  the  perpetual  interchange  of 
atoms,  I  do  not  know  where  to  look  for  it,  and  I  shall 
soon  have  a  grand  proof  to  produce  in  its  favor,  in  show- 
ing you  the  electricity  from  without  incontestably  exer- 
cising over  our  muscles  the  action  which  I  conclude  is 
exercised  by  that  from  within. 

Now,  here  is  the  mystery ! 

Let  your  mother  give  you  an  order  ;  you,  as  an  obedi- 
ent child,  at  once  do*  just  what  she  bids  you  ;  it  never 
occurs  to  any  one  to  express  the  least  astonishment. 
There  is  no  great  difficulty  in  establishing  connexion 
between  your  mother  and  yourself.  You  and  she  form, 
as  it  were,  but  one  soul,  and  it  is  almost  as  if  she  had 
given  the  order  to  some  part  of  herself. 

When  your  father  calls  his  dog — forgive  the  compari- 
son, I  will  show  you  presently  that  it  was  necessary  ; — 
well  then,  when  your  father  calls  his  dog,  and  the  intel- 
ligent animal  runs  up  to  him,  leaving  everything  to  obey 
its  master,  this  obedience  creates  no  surprise  in  the  mind 
of  any  one  present.  Great  as  the  distance  may  be  be- 
tween the  dog  and  ourselves,  we  are  well  aware,  that 
it  is  not  insuperable,  and  that  the  dog  is  an  old  servant 
that  we  are  accustomed  to.  Nevertheless,  the  difference 
is  great.  If  you  were  to  order  Turk  to  wash  himself  in 
the  morning,  and  to  soap  his  paws  without  helping  him, 


253  VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS. 

I  think  you  would  find  it  a  difficult  matter  to  make  your- 
self understood.  But  it  is  unnecessary  to  say  anything 
more  about  this. 

Now,  try  in  your  turn  to  attract  to  you,  without  show- 
ing them  any  bread,  the  little  gold-fish  which  are  in  the 
globe  in  the  dining-room.  I  say  try,  for  there  is  just  a 
possibility  that  you  may  succeed.  Fish  are  too  far 
removed  from  us  in  the  scale  of  animal  life  for  the  most 
rudimentary  conversation  between  us  to  be  understood  ; 
but  they  have  eyes  with  which  they  can  see  us,  appetites 
that  we  can  satisfy  ;  a  species  of  understanding  is,  to  a 
certain  point,  possible  between  them  and  us,  and  there 
is  nothing  very  ridiculous  in  the  idea  of  giving  them  an 
order. 

But  what  would  you  say  of  a  gentleman  who  should 
undertake  to  exact  obedience  from  an  oyster,  to  make 
it  open  or  close  its  shell  when  ordered  to  do  so  ?  Such 
an  individual  would  render  himself  liable  to  be  sent 
to  a  lunatic  asylum,  to  carry  out  his  experiments  there. 
Between  the  oysters  and  ourselves  there  can  be  no 
mutual  understanding  ;  any  one  must  be  devoid  of 
reasoning  who  could  for  one  moment  suppose  that 
there  is. 

Do  not  be  impatient,  you  will  see  my  meaning  directly. 
If  we  are  obliged  to  renounce  the  possibility  of  being 
obeyed  by  the  oyster,  how  much  more  difficult  must  it  be 
to  obtain  obedience  from  the  shell.  It  is  self-evident 
that  inanimate  objects  cannot  be  subject  to  our  orders. 
Did  the  idea  ever  come  into  your  head  as  to  the  possi- 
bility of  your  controlling  the  rain  that  falls,  the  wind 
that  blows,  the  heat  that  issues  from  a  stove,  or  the 
electricity  that  runs  along  the  wires  of  the  pile  ?  Well, 
it  is  exactly  this  last  miracle  that  is  performed  by  you, 
each  time  you  raise  your  arm.  You  will  something,  and 


VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS.  259 

the  electric  currents  obey.  Over  what  bridge  is  the 
passage  of  your  will  transmitted  to  them  ?  Ask  the 
Great  Architect  who  has  constructed  it ! 

Very  probably  you  are  anxious  to  know  what  becomes 
of  these  docile  currents,  which  ever  appear  ready  to  put 
the  members  in  motion  upon  the  first  signal  of  the  will, 
whilst  the  body  is  in  a  state  of  repose,  and  you  ask  me, 
Do  they  sleep  when  the  members  do  ?  or  are  they  shut 
up  in  barracks  like  so  many  soldiers  in  time  of  peace, 
waiting  for  the  moment  of  action  ? 

Certainly  not  •  do  not  imagine  such  a  thing,  Nature 
has  no  warehouses  stored  with  unemployed  forces  ;  she 
knows  too  well  how  to  produce  them  the  very  moment 
she  requires  them. 

You  already  know — it  is  learned  soon  eriough — that 
when  nations  are  not  agreed  among  themselves,  they 
have  recourse  to  war  in  order  to  ascertain  who  is  in  the 
right ;  for  this  reason  we  have  armies  which  are  natural- 
ly more  numerous  during  war  than  in  a  time  of  peace  ; 
this  is  what  is  called  being  on  a  war  footing.  A  nation 
that  knows  how  to  conduct  itself  prudently  keeps  only 
the  amount  of  armed  force  necessary  to  maintain  order 
during  the  time  of  peace.  Each  man  attends  to  his  own 
business,  without  troubling  himself  about  the  govern- 
ment ;  indeed,  so  far  as  he  is  concerned,  it  might  easily 
not  be  in  existence.  Instead  of  the  national  wealth 
being  squandered,  it  accumulates,  and  proves  an  invalu- 
able resource  in  days  of  strife.  If  war  is  declared, 
government  immediately  issues  a  call  to  arms,  and 
armies  appear  to  come  out  of  the  earth  as  if  by  en- 
chantment. 

Nature  has  adopted  exactly  the  same  arrangement 
in  us. 

During  the  moments  of  rest,  the  pile  of  which  we  have 


260  VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS. 

been  speaking  is  self  acting,  utterly  regardless  of  the 
will,  and  only  produces  the  exact  amount  of  power  that 
is  requisite  to  keep  up  the  work  going  on  in  the  organs  ; 
a  work  which  would  suddenly  come  to  an  end,  if  these 
electric  currents  did  not  traverse  them.  It  is  here  that 
the  provision  of  substances  accumulates,  destined  to  be 
consumed,  in  supplying  us  with  force,  when  an  extra  de- 
mand for  it  shall  be  made. 

Movement  is  perpetual  warfare ;  our  arms  war  with 
all  that  we  pull,  all  that  we  push,  all  that  we  lift,  all 
that  we  strike ;  our  legs  war  with  every  obstacle  that 
lies  in  our  path ;  the  entire  body  wars  with  this  ever- 
present  enemy  which  we*  call  gravitation,  and  which 
stretches  us  on  the  ground,  the  moment  we  cease  to 
struggle  with  its  influence.  I  daresay  you  never  thought 
of  all  this,  my  dear  child ;  but  you  might  say  to  your- 
self as  you  raise  your  spoon  to  your  mouth,  that  you 
and  it  are  at  war.  You  oblige  it  to  ascend,  while  it 
would  like  to  descend. 

It  is  at  such  times  as  these  that  the  government  wakes 
up.  As  soon  as  its  counsels  have  determined  to  open 
hostilities,  the  will  issues  its  despatches,  and  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye  the  muscles  are  all  ready  for  the 
combat,  the  blood  suddenly  rushes  to  the  call,  movement 
of  the  atoms  is  accelerated  ;  the  supplementary  currents 
all  at  once  spring  up,  and  under  their  action  the  muscu- 
lar fibre,  just  now  motionless  and  extended,  shortens,  and 
contracts,  carrying  with  it  in  its  movement,  the  parts  of 
the  framework  to  which  it  is  attached. 

I  have  yet  to  tell  you  how  these  electric  currents  de- 
termine muscular  contraction  ;  how,  at  least,  we  are  best 
enabled  to  represent  their  action.  I  shall  reserve  this 
explanation  for  our  next  meeting. 

Before  we  part,  I  do  not  wish  to  allow  FO  good  an 


VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS.  261 

opportunity  to  escape  without  explaining  to  you  what 
sleep  is,  which  is  our  great  time  of  peace. 

Movement  has  its  charms  for  us,  and  so  has  war,  it  ap- 
pears, for  some  nations.  Still,  when  it  !s  prolonged 
beyond  certain  limits,  and  has  caused  the  country  too 
large  an  expenditure  of  energy  and  men,  for  these  are 
its  component  atoms,  in  vain  government  issues  its  de- 
spatches ;  the  people,  exhausted,  lie  down  upon  the  parth 
and  beg  for  sleep. 

This  is  your  daily  history  when  you  have  given  the 
reins  to  your  electric  current,  and  when  your  stock  of 
destructible  substances  is  exhausted.  Your  drowsy 
subjects  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the  call  to  arms  made  by  the 
will.  However  valiant  a  warrior  you  may  be,  you  must 
then  beat  a  retreat  before  this  overwhelming  force,  and 
you  will  soon  find  defeat  await  you  on  your  pillow. 
We  should  not  curse  war  as  we  do  were  it  always  to 
end  thus. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

» 

VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS— (Continued.) 

A  FRIEND  of  mine  was  talking  to  me  one  day  of  a 
motor  power  which  he  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  dis- 
cover. If  you  do  not  happen  to  know  the  meaning  of 
the  term  motor  power,  let  me  tell  you  that  the  expres- 
sion is  applied  to  every  kind  of  machine  capable  of 
producing  movement. 

Here  in  a  few  words  is  the  discovery  made  by  my 
friend  ;  and  after  the  little  lesson  I  recently  gave  you 
on  the  subject  of  magnetism,  I  think  you  should  be  quite 
able  to  understand  all  I  am  going  to  tell  you. 

Picture  .to  yourself  a  double  rosary  composed  of  small 
pieces  of  soft  iron  placed  at  short  distances  from  each 
other  yet  united  by  flexible  fastenings.  A  spiral  copper 
wire  is  rolled  round  each  of  the  rosaries,  which  can,  at 
will,  be  immediately  placed  in  communication  with  a 
pile  in  a  state  of  activity.  A  very  simple  contrivance 
establishes  a  communication  between  the  two  wires,  so 
that  each  rosary,  in  its  turn,  is  embraced  in  the  electric 
current. 

You  are  aware  that  under  these  circumstances  soft 
iron  becomes  magnetised.  The  little  magnets,  which 
are  thus  suddenly  produced  in  the  rosary  subjected  to 
the  current,. having  their  poles  necessarily  in  the  same 
direction,  seeing  that  they  are  in  a  line,  it  follows  that 
each  north  pole  faces  a  south  one,  the  extremities  always 
excepted,  and  15^  reason  of  the  law  I  before  explained 
(262) 


VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS.  263 

to  you,  viz.,  that "  bodies  electrified  in  an  opposite  man- 
ner will  always  attract  eacli  other  " — all  these  magnets 
make  a  sudden  rush  at  one  another.  Again,  imagine 
ten  such  magnets  all  placed  in  a  line,  an  inch  being  left 
between  each  ;  directly  their  poles  are  united  by  recip- 
rocal attraction,  so  as  to  form  one  unbroken  line,  your 
rosary  will  be  exactly  ten  inches  short  of  its  original 
length,  a  very  considerable  difference,  you  will  say. 

Now  if  you  arrange  the  two  rosaries  so  that  they  can 
act  in  an  inverse  manner  upon  a  rod  of  wood  or  iron, 
each  chaplet  will  attract  the  rod  in  its  turn  ;  the  mag- 
netism in  the  pieces  of  iron  being  conveyed  with  the 
electric  current  from  one  to  the  other,  and  a  see-saw 
movement  of  the  rod  will  be  established  similar  to  that 
of  the  piston  of  a  steam-engine  at  work.  Hook  the  bar 
on  to  anything  you  choose,  whether  lever,  bar,  or  crank, 
and  it  will  work  just  as  a  piston  does. 

"  Oh ! "  exclaimed  I,  as  my  friend  concluded  his  explana- 
tion, "  it 's  the  human  arm  you  have  been  inventing  there  1 " 

I  do  not  pretend  to  say  that  my  exclamation  was 
perfectly  correct.  This  is  not  exactly  the  arm  of  a  man, 
but  I  am  greatly  mistaken  if  the  movements  of  the 
human  arm  do  not  take  place  after  this  manner. 

And  here,  my  dear  child,  I  think  it  advisable  to  re- 
peat a  remark  I  made  to  you  when  speaking  of  muscular 
fibre.  I  told  you  in  an  earlier  chapter  that  "  these 
threads,  or  fibres,  look  like  a  kind  of  rosary,  the  beads 
of  which  placed  at  certain  distances  from  each  other 
alternately  shorten  or  lengthen  the  fibre  according  as 
they  approach  each  other,  or  return  to  their  original 
position." 

One  thing  was  wanting  in  my  lesson  at  that  time  ;  it 
was  the  explanation  of  the  alternate  movements  of  the 
muscular  fibre.  This  I  could  not  give  you  then.  Now, 


264  VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS. 

without  pretending  to  enter  fully  on  the  subject,  I  can 
at  least  give  you  an  idea  of  the  manner  in  which  they 
are  produced. 

Whatever  be  its  origin,  it  seems  to  me  evident  .that 
when  we  will  a  movement,  an  electric  current  rushes 
from  the  brain  along  the  nerves  to  the  muscle  intended 
to  execute  it,  and  there  determines  a  flow  of  blood, 
together  with  the  necessary  chemical  action.  The  beads 
of  the  muscular  rosary  must  then  become  so  many  small 
magnets,  each  having  its  pole  in  the  same  direction,  and 
attracting  each  other  with  a  power  proportioned  to  the 
energy  of  the  magnetism  transmitted,  the  muscle  remain- 
ing contracted  so  long  as  this  influence  continues.  It  is 
thus  on  account  of  the  peculiar  electric  condition  of  the 
biceps  and  the  muscles  of  the  shoulder  that  the  forearm 
bends  on  the  arm,  and  the  arm  on  the  body.  If  we  wish 
to  bring  the  arm  forward,  the  cerebral  current  imme- 
diately changes  its  direction,  transporting  itself  to  the 
antagonistic  muscles  ;  these  in  their  turn  contract,  bear- 
ing away  the  bone  in  a  contrary  direction ;  the  rosaries  of 
the  opposite  side,  suddenly  losing  their  magnetic  influ- 
ence, allow  their  beads  full  liberty  as  soon  as  they  are 
abandoned  by  the  current. 

All  this  appears  very  scientific,  does  it  not  ?  and  yet 
I  have  dispensed  with  all  the  mysterious  parts  in  this 
game  of  electricity,  which,  for  very  good  reasons,  I  have 
by  no  means  fully  explained.  Whatever  use  you  may 
be  enabled  to  make  of  this  partial  explanation,  it  is 
sufficient  to  give  you  some  notion  of  the  wonderful  way 
in  which  our  muscles  contract ;  and  if  you  one  day 
chance  to  see  your  mother's  needle  and  scissors  magne- 
tized by  repeated  contact  with  her  fingers,  you  will  un- 
derstand how  it  all  happens. 

Whilst  we  are  speaking  about  fingers,  I  wish  to  call 


VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS.  265 

your  attention  to-  something  that  you  may  probably 
never  have  noticed. 

Open  your  hand  and  stretch  out  your  fingers,  then  try 
to  close  the  middle  one,  keeping  the  others  fully  ex- 
tended. If  you  succeed,  you  are  cleverer  than  I  am. 
Although  my  whole  will  is  concentrated  upon  my  middle 
finger,  I  cannot  master  it.  Every  time  I  attempt  to 
close  it,  all  its  companions  move  along  with  it,  waiting 
for  no  order  ;  nay,  it  is  worse  than  this,  for  they  move 
contrary  to  my  order.  The  fault  must  surely  be  mine, 
for  I  have  seen  people  obeyed  under  similar  circumstan- 
ces, and  the  middle  finger  close  upon  the  palm  of  the 
hand,  whilst  all  the  others  remained  extended.  It  must 
be  that  the  electric  currents  communicated  to  my  hand 
by  the  instigation  of  my  will  are  like  so  many  disobedi- 
ent servants  following  a  routine,  and  being  in  the  habit 
of  moving  in  unison,  refuse  to  act  singly,  whenever  I  am 
disposed  to  call  on  them  to  do  so.  Pierre  Gratiolet,  in 
the  remarkable  book  which  he  has  left  us  on  "  La  Phy- 
sionomie  et  les  Mouvements  d'Expression,"  gives  the 
name  of  sympathetic  to  those  movements  which  we  are 
called  upon  to  make  simultaneously  with  other  move- 
ments, and  which  the  will  does  not  always  accomplish 
without  severe  discipline.  He  especially  notices  a  child's 
first  efforts  in  learning  to  play  on  the  piano — the  great 
difficulty  it  experiences  in  acquiring  a  perfectly  inde- 
pendent movement  with  its  two  hands — the  trouble  and 
tedious  practice  necessary  before  it  can  play  a  scale  so 
steadily,  that  the  little  finger  of  the  left  hand  exactly 
coincides  with  the  thumb  of  the  right,  and  the  first  finger 
of  the  one  hand  with  the  third  of  the  other. 

This  leads  me  to  speak  of  the  freedom  of  action  in  this 
little  kingdom  of  arms  and  legs,  over  which  you  preside, 
although  you  are  perhaps  less  absolutely  its  queen  than 
12 


266  VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS. 

you  would  naturally  suppose.  Besides  this  voluntary 
movement,  which  is  entirely  subordinate  to  your  will, 
there  is  also  a  mechanical  one,  which  the  machine  exe- 
cutes without  any  intervention  on  your  part,  just  as  a 
well-trained  animal  may  be  taught  what  is  expected  of 
it,  and  to  attend  to  its  duties  without  being  constantly 
guided  to  them  by  its  master.  In  the  act  of  walking, 
for  instance,  when  you  are  absorbed,  I  will  not  say  in 
your  thoughts,  though  that  will  come  in  good  time,  but 
in  one  of  those  interesting  conversations  you  carry  on 
with  your  little  friends,  how  frequently  you  dispense 
with  this  voluntary  movement,  and  substitute  the  me- 
chanical one !  Your  will  is  all  the  time  occupied  with 
something  else,  yet  your  legs  continue  to  carry  you 
along  of  their  own  accord,  without  a  false  step.  Be 
honest  now,  and  own  that  you  would  be  sorely  puzzled 
if  the  whole  management  of  walking  was  left  to  your 
own  guidance.  You  control  your  steps  much  in  the 
same  way  as  three-fourths  of  our  kings  declare  war  ; 
they  give  the  signal  for  it,  but  it  is  carried  on  without 
their  assistance. 

These  habits,  which  our  agents  adopt,  and  then,  after 
a  time,  carry  on  without  any  help  from  us,  are  not  the 
least  of  the  mysteries  found  in  our  organization.  I  can 
bear  testimony  to  a  very  tiresome  trick  my  hands  are 
guilty  of,  and  which  I  have  been  unable  to  cure  them  of 
hitherto.  Every  evening,  before  I  undress  for  bed,  I  am 
accustomed  to  wind  up  my  watch,  which  is  all  very  right 
and  proper  if  you  want  to  know  what  o'clock  it  is  when 
you  rise  on  the  following  morning.  Now  when  I  have 
occasion  to  change  my  clothes  during  the  day,  no  sooner 
do  I  unhook  my  watch-chain  from  the  buttonhole  of  my 
waistcoat,  than  my  hands,  taking  advantage  of  my 
thoughts  being  occupied  with  something  else,  stealthily 


VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS.  267 

set  to  work,  and  before  I  know  what  I  am  doing,  the 
watch  is  wound  up.  Who  is  the  agent  in  this  instance  ? 
Am  I  the  agent?  Did  my  hands  perform  the  deed? 
Certainly  I  could  not  have  done  it,  for  I  was  not  think- 
ing of  it. 

Now  observe,  that  the  watch  is  not  wound  up  by  one 
single  movement,  by  one  emancipated  muscle  which  slyly 
contracts  itself ;  there  is  a  whole  series  of  complicated 
movements,  which  I  need  not  enumerate.  You  have  but 
to  call  to  mind  the  working  of  your  fingers  as  you  wind 
up  that  pretty  little  watch  of  which  you  feel  so  proud. 
But,  compared  with  what  I  have  to  tell  you,  all  this  is 
very  insignificant. 

How  long  and  how  patiently  your  mother  devoted  her- 
self to  teaching  you  to  speak  !  You  can  neither  recol- 
lect nor  realize  the  labor  it  cost  her !  You  will  one  day 
know  it,  if  you  should  have  a  child  of  your  own  whom 
you  would  teach  to  say  mamma.  If  you  take  notice 
then,  you  will  see  that  in  ordei?  to  pronounce  each  of  the 
syllables,  of  which  words  are  composed,  the  tongue  and 
lips  must  assume  a  variety  of  positions  successively. 
The  lips  open,  then  close,  are  pressed  together,  and  ad- 
vance, whilst  the  tongue  strikes  against  the  palate  at 
one  moment,  leans  against  the  upper  teeth  at  another,  or 
gently  places  its  tip  just  within  the  lips.  Added  to  all  this, 
each  muscle  of  the  chest,  throat,  jaws,  cheeks,  and  even 
of  the  nose,  has  its  peculiar  work  which  is  constantly 
changing.  In  order  to  pronounce  the  simple  word  con- 
fiture, which  seems  to  come  quite  naturally  from  your 
lips,  you  have  no  idea  of  the  number  of  little  muscles 
that  are  at  work  at  the  same  moment,  and  the  various 
manoeuvres  they  have  to  execute.  Thus  you  see  the  first 
words  little  children  utter  are  composed  of  one  syllable 
twice  repeated,  as  papa,  dada.  It  is  so  difficult  for  them 


268  VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS. 

to  enunciate  at  first  that  all  they  can  do  after  having 
succeeded  in  pronouncing  a  syllable,  is  to  recommence  ; 
the  fatigue  of  passing  on  to  something  fresh  would  be  too 
much  for  them. 

Tell  me,  if  you  can,  what  is  become  of  all  the  effort 
each  word  cost  you  as  you  learned  to  stammer  it  out? 
How  is  it  that  you  now  can  prattle  away  for  hours  to- 
gether without  a  pause,  just  as  if  the  words  were  so  much 
running  water  ?  It  is  simply  because  the  education  of 
this  set  of  servants  is  completed,  and  they  cease  to  cause 
you  any  anxiety.  No  matter  at  what  speed  the  lit- 
tle tongue  runs  on,  each  word  finds  the  muscles  at 
their  post,  and  the  rapidity  of  thought  to  conceive  a  sen- 
tence is  frequently  surpassed  by  that  with  which  it  is 
pronounced. 

In  all  this,  may  we  not  ask,  as  we  make  use  of  our 
tongues,  To  whom  then  does  belong  the  honor  of  speech  ? 
I  answer :  To  our  intelligence  ;  because,  although  the 
mechanism  of  words  is  claimed  by  the  muscles,  we  must 
in  the  first  instance  furnish  the  ideas  they  express,  which 
is  evidently  a  higher  power.  But  I  have  something 
more  extraordinary  yet  to  tell  you. 

I  know  a  very  old  lady  who,  when  a  little  girl,  was 
taught  a  prayer  which  she  repeated,  as  too  many  children 
are  in  the  habit  of  doing,  without  once  thinking  of  the 
meaning  of  the  words.  Let  me  observe,  in  passing,  that 
to  offer  mere  lip  homage  to  our  Maker,  in  which  the 
heart  takes  no  share,  is  but  mockery.  You  may  as  well 
imitate  the  Tartars,  who  stick  their  prayers  upon  a  roller 
and  turn  it  with  all  their  might,  exhorting  it  to  intercede 
for  them.  God,  who  looks  into  the  heart,  sees  and 
knows  who  really  desire  to  honor  Him,  and  He  knows 
how  far  this  old  lady  acts  up  to  what  she  has  been 
taught ;  it  is  the  intention  He  considers.  Strange  as  it 


VOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS.  269 

appears,  though  she  has  quite  forgotten  the  prayer  taught 
her  in  her  childhood,  for  words  to  be  retained  in  the 
memory  must  have  some  hold  upon  the  mind,  yet  when 
the  desire  suddenly  seizes  her,  this  old  lady  will  go 
through  the  prayer  by  rote.  Perhaps  you  have  some- 
times heard  of  travellers,  who,  losing  their  way  at  night^ 
and  despairing  of  recovering  the  beaten  track,  will 
throw  the  rein  upon  the  horse's  neck  and  trust  to  its 
guidance.  This  is  precisely  what  my  old  lady  friend  ap- 
pears to  do ;  she  shuts  her  eyes  so  that  nothing  may  out. 
wardly  interrupt  the  performance  of  her  duty,  and  fear- 
lessly yields  the  rein  to  the  muscles  which  preside  over 
speech.  These  muscles  have  performed  their  work  so 
repeatedly  that  they  are  easily  set  in  motion,  and  the 
prayer  which  its  mistress  has  mentally  forgotten,  the 
lips  are  made  to  utter  mechanically  ;  "but  I  must  admit 
that  the  prayer  is  blurted  out,  and  if  she  is  interrupted? 
all  is  lost.  Who  after  that  would  quarrel  with  muscles 
which  perform  such  a  wonderful  feat  of  memory  ? 

Assuredly,  if  these  are  also  voluntary  movements  in- 
asmuch as  the  will  gives  an  impulse  to  the  speaking 
machine,  you  must  own  "they  have  reason  to  boast  of 
their  independence,  and  I  leave  it  to  philosophers  to  point 
out  the  director  of  this  assemblage  of  muscular  contrac- 
tions which  rapidly  and  blindly  succeed  each  other  in 
the  same  invariable  order. 

The  question  is  far  beyond  us,  and  I  prefer  making 
this  occasion  profitable  by  exhorting  you,  whenever  you 
commit  anything  to  memory,  to  store  the  words  well  in 
your  head,  and  not  on  your  lips,  as  certain  young  ladies  of 
my  acquaintance  do,  who  read  their  lessons  over  as  loud 
as  they  can  that  their  muscles  maybe  well  exercised  for  the 
recital.  How  will  you  make  any  progress  by  teaching 
words  to  your  muscles  ?  What  are  they  to  do  with  them? 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

THE   CEREBELLUM. 

I  ADVISED  you  at  the  close  of  the  last  chapter  not  to 
teach  your  muscles  any  words.  It  is  not  exactly  the 
muscles  which  learn,  although  to  speak  the  truth,  it 
amounts  to  the  same  thing  ;  they  seem  to-  learn.  In  order 
to  acquaint  ourselves  with  what  goes  on  in  their  pro- 
vince, we  shall  require  to  take  a  little  tour  through  the 
capital,  or  in  other  words,  pay  a  visit  to  the  head,  since 
the  word  capital  is,  as  you  probably  know,  derived  from 
the  Latin  caput,  signifying  a  head. 

I  have  already  informed  you,  that  this  invisible  direc- 
tor, who  imparts  impulse  to  the  muscles,  and  holds  in 
his  hand  all  the  telegraphic  wires  by  which  the  orders 
of  your  will  are  transmitted,  resides  in  the  brain.  You 
are  this  director.  To  call  him  by  his  proper  name,  he  is 
your  own-  little  self,  and  he  is  incapable  of  performing 
any  act  without  your  knowledge. 

Now  there  is  also  a  sub-director,  in  close  proximity  to 
this  director,  through  whose  hands  each  wire  must  pass 
before  it  reaches  its  destination  ;  he  is  the  real  regulator 
of  each  manoeuvre  the  muscles  perform,  and  this  is  no 
longer  you  ;  he  works  in  the  dark  without-  letting  you 
into  the  secret  of  his  acts  and  gestures.  What  he  is,  no 
one  knows  ;  his  whereabouts  only  is  known  ;  for  he  re- 
sides in  the  cerebellum  and  its  dependencies,  or,  to  be 
accurate,  in  the  pons  Yarolii  and  around  the  Aqueduct 
of  Sylvius.  I  hope  you  have  not  lost  sight  of  the  little 
(270) 


THE   CEREBELLUM.  271 

chart  we  made  of  the  brain.  Order  and  the  progress  of 
movement  are  regulated  in  this  department ;  we  have  a 
most  beautiful  proof  of  this,  or  a  horrible  proof,  you  may 
feel  inclined  to  call  it,  when  you  know  the  facts,  and 
you  are  at  liberty  to  call  it  so  if  you  please. 

The  species  of  study  which  I  m^pnd  to  bring  before 
your  notice  first  suggested  itself,  at  least  on  a  large 
scale,  to  the  mind  of  a  French  physiologist  named  Ma- 
gendie.  It  is  a  barbarous  study  seemingly,  for  it  has 
caused  thousands  of  animals  «to  be  cruelly  put  to  death  ; 
but  where  science  is  concerned,  savants  look  upon  any 
leaning  to  the  side  of  humanity  as  only  puerile.  Are 
they  justified  in  this?  It  is  not  for  me  to  decide. 
Every  one  has  his  own  conscience,  let  that  be  his 
guide. 

I  borrow  the  subjoined  facts  from  Milne-Edward's 
"  Cours  de  Zoologie." 

If,  after  opening  an  animal's  skull,  you  cut  a  small 
portion  from  off  the  base  of  the  brain,  situated  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  cerebellum,  and  which  is  known  as  the 
corpus  striatum  or  striated  body,  though  for  what  rea- 
son I  cannot  say,  the  animal  suddenly  darts  forward  as 
if  carried  away  by  an  irresistible  power,  and  it  runs  on 
and  on  until  some  obstacle  presents  itself  in  Us  path, 
or  it  stops  through  sheer  exhaustion,  but  backward  it 
cannot  go,  for  it  is  deprived  of  all  retrograde  move- 
ment. 

Again,  if  a  section  be  made  simultaneously,  on  each 
side  of  the  cerebellum,  or  pons  Yarolii,  the  result  will  be 
exactly  the  reverse ;  in  this  instance  the  animal  makes 
an  equally  sudden  rush,  but  the  motion  is  retrograde, 
and  according  as  the  animal  is  a  quadruped,  a  fish,  or  a 
bird,  it  will  walk,  swim,  or  fly  backward,  having  lost  all 
power  to  move  forward. 


272  THE   CEREBELLUM. 

Lastly,  if  an  incision  be  made  in  one  side  of  the  cere- 
bellum,  or  pons  Varolii,  you  will  witness  a  no  less  sin- 
gular result ;  the  wounded  creature  will  revolve  upon 
itself ;  if  the  incision  has  been  made  at  the  right  side, 
the  movement  will  be  from  right  to  left ;  if  on  the  left 
side  then  the  movement  will  be  reversed ;  and  so  rapid 
has  it  been  in  some  instances,  that  more  than  sixty  revo- 
lutions in  a  minute  have^been  remarked. 

From  all  this  it  may  warrantably  .be  concluded  that  a 
despatch  office  exists  below  the  apartments  of  the  will, 
whence  orders  are  issued  to  every  part  of  the  body,  and 
that  it  resembles  an  ordinary  government,  inasmuch  as, 
to  enforce  obedience,  the  offices  must  be  intact.  Nay, 
the  case  is  even  more  serious ;  one  false  despatch  issued 
by  the  subaltern  sets  all  in  motion,  but  precisely  in  an 
opposite  manner  to  what  is  intended. 

We  are  now  in  possession  of  a  key  to  these  movements^ 
which  are  executed  either  without  the  will  being  con- 
sulted on  the  subject,  or  in  direct  opposition  to  it.  We 
shall  also  find  some  analogy  to  this  as  in  government 
arrangements,  in  what  is  called  office  routine. 

There  are  certain  old  affairs  long  forgotten  by  the 
head  of  the  department,  the  papers  connected  with  which 
are  in  €the  repositories  of  the  subaltern,  and  which  he, 
on  a  simple  order  being  received,  terminates  mechanically 
without  the  aid  of  his  director.  This  is  the  story  of  the 
old  lady  and  the  prayer  she  learned  in  childhood  to  re^ 
peat  by  rote.  You  see  how  Jittle  there  is  to  boast  of, 
if,  when  you  learn  a  lesson,  you  bury  it  in  the  subaltern's 
repository,  never  letting  it  reach  the  master's  eye. 

This  is  not  all.  Nobody  is  more  obstinate  than  an 
office-clerk.  What  he  has  been  long  in  the  habit  of  do- 
ing, he  will  do,  and  not  even  king  or  emperor  would  suc- 
ceed in  making  him  depart  from  his  routine  without 


THE   CEREBELLUM.  273 

immense  difficulty.  The  orders  may  be  given,  yet  the 
clerk  still  mechanically  pursues  his  accustomed  course. 
The  clerk  of  the  cerebellum  is  every  whit  as  obstinate 
as  his  compeers.  You  wish  to  move  one  finger  only,  or 
to  make  one  particular  finger  move  in  concert  with 
another  ;  this  is  not  his  general  habit.  He  lets  you  issue 
your  commands,  but  he  forwards  his  dispatches  in  the 
direction  familiar  to  him.  And  thus  it  is,  my  little  friend, 
that  he  sets  you  at  defiance  without  your  perceiving  it, 
and  even  sometimes  when  you  do  perceive  it. 

An  industrious  and  determined  master  will  neverthe- 
less overcome  these  routine  difficulties,  but  only  by  re- 
peated efforts  on  his  part.  Even  you  must  acknowledge 
how  fast  your  once  undisciplined  fingers  are  getting  un- 
der your  control ;  they  now  find  their  way  on  to  the 
right  notes  on  the  piano,  without  noticing  who  their 
companions  may  be.  You  are  not  obliged  to  be  so  con- 
stantly on  the  alert.  Routine  exists  here,  but  it  is  a 
good  form  of  routine  instead  of  a  bad  one.  In  this  lies 
the  grand  secret  of  good  government. 

It  is  nevertheless  necessary,  however  determined  we 
may  be,  that  the  offices  be  in  good  condition,  if  we^wish  to 
be  obeyed  ;  for  otherwise,  with  the  best  will  in  the  world 
to  go  forward,  we  might  walk  backward,  or  even  turn 
round  and  round,  which  would  be  still  more  disagreeable. 

You,  no  doubt,  consider  yourself  exempt  from  all  these 
disagreeable  mishaps,  satisfied  as  you  are  that  no  inves- 
tigator of  science  will  ever*  take  it  into  his  head  to. make 
incisions  in  your  cerebellum,  that  he  may  ascertain  the 
effect  they  would  produce.  Who  can  say,  but  that  among 
some  of  the  people  to  whom  you  relate  what  I  have  just 
been  saying,  you  may  not  encounter  some,  who,  for  the 
sake  of  the  secrets  they  will  divulge,  will  look  upon  these 
experiments  as  quite  justifiable?  If  so,  undeceive  your- 
12* 


274  THE   CEREBELLUM. 

self,  my  dear  child,  and  let  us  caution  lovers  of  science 
against  too  hastily  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
end  justifies  the  means.  Nature  deals  pretty  severely 
with  us,  and  we  already  know  all  we  care  to  know  about 
these  operations  without  the  additional  pangs  inflicted 
by  the  vivisectors.* 

Now  and  then  we  have  it  in  our  power  to  report  very 
extraordinary  instances  of  irregular  movement  resulting 
from  some  injury  to  the  cerebellum.  Among  other  ex- 
amples mentioned  in  my  books,  I  find  that  of  a  poor  lady 
who  was  more  seriously  affected  than  any  of  the  animals 
experimented  on  by  the  scalpel.  Her  limbs,  owing  to 
the  equilibrium  between  the  extensors  and  flexors  being 
disturbed,  bent  without  any  possible  resistance  on  her 
part,  so  that  she  used  to  fall  down  in  a  heap,  and  in 
this  position  she  might  be  seen  turning  round  and  round 
utterly  powerless  to  stop  herself.  Flattening  or  shrink- 
ing of  the  cerebellum  was  discovered  after  death. 

Now,  I  have  told  you  quite  enough  about  this  imper- 
tinent organ,  which  we  may  well  imagine  is  placed  where 
it  is  to  stem  the  pride  of  little  people  who  think  them- 
selves masters  over  their  own  bodies.  Let  me  give  you 
a  word  of  caution,  not  to  be  astonished  at  the  striking 
similarities  between  our  interior  government  and  those  of 
human  societies,  resemblances  which  have  just  occurred 
to  me  while  endeavoring  to  make  you  understand  the 
part  which  the  cerebellum  performs  in  our  economy.  A 
society  is  like  a  man  on  a  large  scale,  it  tends  by  natural 
inclination  to  organize  itself  on  the  same  plan  as  the 
human  organization.  I  must  have  told  you  this  already, 
but  I  will  make  it  plainer  than  ever  to  you  in  the  next 
chapter. 

*  Vivisector  is  the  name  which  those  who  experiment  on  living 
animals  give  themselves. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE    NERVOUS     CENTEE. 

WE  are  now  come  to  the  delicate  part  of  our  explana- 
tion of  movement.  .Whether  cerebellum  or  cerebrum,  it 
is  assuredly  from  the  entire  cerebral  mass  that  the  elec- 
tric currents  determining  muscular  contractions  radiate  ; 
but  where  are  they  produced  ? 

This  is  a  question  well  worthy  of  investigation,  for 
here  the  will  has  no  control.  Chemical  agency  is  as 
requisite  to  create  an  electric  current  in  the  human  pile 
as  in  any  other,  and  it  would  be  impossible  to  produce 
one  by  a  simple  act  of  the  will. 

Encephalon  is  the  common  name  assigned  to  the  en- 
tire nervous  mass  lodged  within  the  skull.  Beyond 
a  doubt,  it  is  in  this  mass,  in  which  it  is  natural  to  sup- 
pose the  largest  amount  of  electricity  is  produced,  that 
the  greatest  quantity  of  blood  is  found  circulating,  and 
the  brain  in  particular  is  specially  adapted  by  nature 
for  this  arrangement.  All  this  I  told  you  when  speak- 
ing of  the  pia  mater.  Besides,  the  soft  and  delicate  na- 
ture of  its  substance  must  give  free  scope  to  the  move- 
ment of  molecules,  which  to  all  appearance  takes  place 
more  rapidly  here  than  elsewhere. 

It  would  seem  natural,  at  first  sight,  to  expect  that 
the  will  would  here  meet  with  its  required  agent  ready 
made  to  its  hand.  Now,  absurd  and  presumptuous  as 
some  persons  may  think  me,  I  venture  to  assert  that  this 
is  by  no  means  the  case. 

The  cerebral  electricity  never  travels  to  any  great  dis- 

(275) 


276  THE  NEEVOUS  CENTRE. 

tance  for  the  purpose  of  compelling  the  muscles  to  con- 
tract ;  it  may  rather  be  likened  to  some  stately  dame 
who  has  much  higher  functions  to  perform,  and  who  ex- 
ecutes them  without  moving  from  the  spot.  I  feel  it 
busily  at  work  in  my  head  at  this  very  moment,  while 
taxing  my  ingenuity  to  give  you  a  clear  idea  of  what  I 
do  not  too  fully  understand  myself.  Of  this  working  I 
am  convinced,  because  I  am  alive  to  the  fatigue  now 
present  in  my  head,  and  also  because  of  the  superabun- 
dant flow  of  blood  to  that  point,  similar  to  what  takes 
place  in  the  muscles  when  they  are  in  exercise ;  so  great 
is  it,  that  in  spite  of  a  lighted  stove  at  my  side  I  am  suf- 
fering from  cold  feet. 

To  work  one's  brain,  is  an  expression  which  presents 
itself  to  the  mind  of  the  most  unenlightened,  so  vivid  and 
universal  is  the  physical  sensation  resulting  from  the  in- 
comprehensible act  of  thought.  If  I  have  not  occasion- 
ally been  afraid  to  make  your  brain  work,  iny  dear  little 
friend,  it  is  simply  because  intellectual  education  is 
most  important  at  your  age,  and  also  because  exercise 
strengthens  all  the  organs  equally,  the  brains  which  re- 
flect— stop  a  bit,  where  does  reflection  take  place? — as 
well  as  the  arm  that  is  required  to  saw  the  wood.  If  the 
amount  of  electricity  expended  by  muscular  movement 
were  produced  in  the  encephalon,  then  fatigue  would  be 
experienced  in  that  point,  just  in  the  same  degree  as  the 
expenditure  of  electricity,  resulting  from  intellectual 
labor,  is  felt  there.  Now,  when  you  have  been  walking 
all  day,  and  the  entire  body  succumbs,  one  single  part 
of  it  remains  insensible  to  fatigue  ;  it  is  the  head,  or 
rather  what  is  within  it,  the  encephalon,  for  the  muscles 
which  retain  it  in  its  place  are  subject  to  the  laws  of 
other  muscles ;  and  in  this  instance,  therefore,  they  par- 
ticipate in  the  general  fatigue. 


THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE.  277 

We  must  sefirch  elsewhere,  then.  Suppose  we  return 
to  our  comparison  of  a  government. 

Have*you  ever  heard  any  one  speak  of  what  are  termed 
Crown  lands  ?  in  other  words,  property,  the  entire  pro- 
ceeds of  which  are  appropriated  to  the  personal  neces- 
sities of  the  sovereign.  I  should  be  disposed  to  look 
upon  the  encephalon  as  being  our  Crown  lands.  The 
personal  revenue  of  him  who  governs  is  always,  as  you 
know,  far  greater  than  that  of  other  people,  hence  the 
frequent  disputes  as  to  who  shall  govern. 

Besides  all  this  store  of  wealth,  a  tax  is  levied  through- 
out the  country  which  goes  to  government,  to  be  returned, 
under  its  direction,  to  those  parts  of  the  country  which 
require  common  aid.  Do  not  let  us  forget  that  a  con- 
stant warfare  is  going  on  on  this  subject  of  movement 
where  we  are ;  it  is  a  state  of  war  we  are  speaking  of  in 
which  the  members  of  a  society  ought  to  aid  each  other 
in  fighting  the  common  enemy.  Those,  of  course,  who 
are  immediately  engaged  in  the  struggle  will  be  called 
upon  to  suffer  the  greatest  personal  loss .  Government 
receives  with  one  hand  what  it  gives  away  with  the 
other,  and  by  this  method  cannot  be  ruined. 

Such  is  the  idea  I  form  of  these  bountiful  supplies  of 
electricity  distributed  by  the  encephalon  among  the 
muscles  which  are  called  to  the  combat,  I  will  not  un- 
dertake to  explain  them  to  you  as  I  did  the  currents  of 
the  voltaic  pile.  We  are  in  the  presence  of  too  compli- 
cated an  apparatus,  the  working  of  which  is  concealed 
from  our  investigation,  and  the  electricity  developed 
there  has  a  character  peculiar  to  itself,  differing  as  widely 
from  its  namesakes  in  the  inanimate  world  as  the  action 
of  the  magnet  does  from  that  of  the  electrical  machine. 
But  the  results  are  there.  It  seems  to  me  quite  impos- 
sible that  things  should  take  place  otherwise. 


278  THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE. 

Whatever  proceeding  Nature  employs  fcere,  there  must 
of  necessity  be  a  continual  circulation  of  electricity  carried 
on  between  the  provinces  and  the  capital,  and  vice  versa. 
During  sleep,  when  the  body  is  completely  at  rest,  and 
when  there  can  no  longer  be  any  question  of  muscular 
contraction,  the  electric  tax  paid  to  the  nervous  centre 
has  its  natural  destination ;  it  returns  in  a  quiet  and 
uniform  current,  determining,  everywhere  on  its  passage, 
the  chemical  actions  which  have  produced  it,  as  does  the 
current  of  the  pile,  and  in  this  manner  life  maintains  it- 
self in  our  bodies  until  the  substances  capable  of  pro- 
ducing electricity  fail,  or  the  circulation  in  the  apparatus 
becomes  interrupted  whether  by  the  occurrence  of  an 
accident  or  through  exhaustion. 

This  interior  service  necessarily  continues  throughout 
life,  inasmuch  as  it  is  life  itself,  and  we  may  compare  it 
to  what  we  call  public  service.  Postal  communication 
for  example,  which  is  always  going  on,  and,  because  essen- 
tial to  social  life,  must  be  maintained  alike  in  time  of 
peace  or  of  war.  In  time  of  peace  the  taxes  are  light, 
there  is  not  so  much"to  provide  for  then,  and  this  is,  as  I 
have  told  you.  the  time  to  economise.  With  the  renewal 
of  hostilities  or  of  movement  comes  the  war- tax,  demand- 
ing those  extraordinary  contributions  which  wear  the 
body  out  in  a  verj  brief  space  of  time,  and  forcibly  compel 
it  to  take  refuge  in  the  economy  of  sleep.  When  war  is 
going  on  in  any  country,  those  provinces  that  are  its 
theatre  are  naturally  more  speedily  exhausted  than  any 
others  ;  and  so  it  is  with  our  muscles,  they  can  only  en- 
dure local  expenditure  of  contraction  for  a  certain  length 
of  time.  But  the  general  expenditure  is  not  the  less  felt 
everywhere ;  and  if  you  compel  any  single  member  to 
work  too  energetically,  lassitude  will,  after  a  time,  per- 
vade the  whole  body,  because  the  other  muscles  have 


THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE.  279 

been  overtaxed  on  its  account.  If  you  pay  attention  to 
them,  the  involuntary  contractions  which  then  agitate 
them  are  quite  sufficient  to  warn  you  that  danger  is  im- 
pending. •  Thus  it  was  that  Russia  finished  by  exhaust- 
ing herself,  in  directing  all  her  forces  to  the  Crimea 
when  Sebastopol  was  taken. 

From  all  this  we  may  conclude,  that  movement  must 
be  suppressed  in  any  member  when  its  communication 
with  the  nervous  centre  ceases,  or  when  the  centre  be- 
comes inactive.  Every  observation  which  has  been  made 
is  in  accordance  with  this  conclusion. 

Let  us  proceed  to  establish  the  first  point. 

The  spinal  marrow  is  the  grand  means  of  communica- 
tion between  the  capital  and  the  provinces ;  it  has  given 
vivisectors,  they  say,  great  opportunities  to  demonstrate 
scientifically,  as  they  call  it,  a  fact  which  the  military 
hospitals,  without  speaking  of  others,  teach  us  only  too 
well.  They  sliced  off  small  pieces  from  the  spinal  mar- 
rows of  mammiferous*  animals,  commencing  with  the 
lower  part,  and  always  found  that  the  movement  was 
proportionably  weaker  in  those  muscles  supplied  by 
nerves  issuing  from  below  the  section  so  made,  and  which 
had  consequently  been  cut  off  from  all  communication 
with  the  centre  of  impulsion.  The  experiment  was  easily 
made.  It  never  fails  when  a  head  falls  beneath  the  axe 
of  the  executioner.  The  entire  body  becomes  inert  by 
one  blow,  because  the  executioner  has  commenced  at  the 
upper  part  of  the  spinal  marrow. 

But  it  is  not  requisite  to  slice  the  marrow  above  any 
member  in  order  to  destroy  movement  there,  for  the 
same  result  may  be  obtained  by  cutting  the  nerves  which 
preside  over  the  contractions  of  the  muscles  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  marrow. 

*  You  will  see  farther  on  why  I  select  mammiferous  animals  only. 


280  THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE. 

This  requires  a  few  words  by  way  of  explanation. 

You  probably  recollect  the  two  little  holes  pierced  at 
the  interlacing  of  each  vertebra ;  the  one  to  the  front, 
the  other  to  the  back  of  the  column,  and  when  the  nerves, 
after  separating  into  two  perfectly  distinct  cords,  effect 
an  entrance  into  the  vertebral  canal.  I  called  your  at- 
tention at  the  time  to  'this  division  of  the  nervous  fibres 
on  their  approach  to  the  marrow.  The  moment  is  now 
come,  as  I  told  you  it  would,  for  me  to  teach  you  what 
there  is  beneath  it. 

When  speaking  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  we 
noticed  that  it  travels  through  a  double  system  of  canals  ; 
the  veins  bringing  it  from  the  extremities  to  the  heart, 
the  arteries  carrying  it  from  the  heart  to  the  extremities. 
The  encephalon  is  a  species  of  electric  heart,  if  I  may  so 
express  it;  it  is  the  point  of  arrival  and  departure  to  a 
double  system  of  fibres  ;  the  one  set  conveying  informa- 
tion, and  probably  the  tribute  of  the  life  of  the  body  to 
it;  the  other  taking' back  its  orders,  and  the  amount  of 
strength  necessary  to  execute  them.  To  carry  out  our 
comparison,  they  are  to  our  government  what  the  civil 
and  military  agents  are  to  others. 

These  two  classep  of  agents,  after  mixing  together 
during  their  passage  through  the  nerves,  suddenly  di- 
verge when  they  reach  the  high  road  of  the  capital. 
Just  imagine  a  regiment  of  soldiers  walking  pell-mell 
amongst  a  crowd  of  civilians.  As  they  approach  the 
town,  the  drum  -beats,  and  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
the  soldiers  are  in  line,  each  man  at  his  place ;  the  troops 
on  one  side  of  the  road,  the  crowd  on  the  other.  This 
is  exactly  the  way  in  which  our  ne*rvous  fibres  act.  The 
military  cord,  or  that  of  movement,  penetrates  the  ver- 
tebral canal  by  the  front  entrance;  the  civil  cord,  or 
that  at  the  head  of  the  inquiry  department,  enters  by  the 


THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE.  281 

back  door,  after  which  they  continue  their  separate  paths 
toward  the  encephalon,  gathering  up,  on  either  side,  as 
they  journey  along,  the  bands  of  comrades  ejected  from 
each  entrance  before  which  they  pass  ;  and  this  is  the 
way  the  two  large  cords  are  formed  at  either  side  of  the 
spinal  marrow,  as  I  pointed  out  to  you  before,  to  the 
right  and  left  of  the  median  line.  Each  receives  one 
kind  of  nervous  branch  only,  the  anterior  cord,  or  that 
to  the  front,  the  fibres  of  movement ;  the  posterior  cord,  or 
that  to  the  back,  the  fibres  of  sensibility ;  consequently 
they  share  the  general  office  of  transmitting  despatches 
throughout  the  body.  Do  you  recollect  the  little  dog 
biting  your  leg,  and  the  kick  you  gave  it  for  doing  so  ? 
Well !  pass  your  hand  over  your  vertebral  column ;  it 
was  by  means  of  the  band  of  marrow  next  your  hand 
that  the  sensation  of  the  bite  reached  you,  and  it  was 
through  the  internal  or  anterior  band  that  the  order  was 
transmitted  to  your  foot. 

I  have  tried  in  vain,  my  dear  child,  and  am  sorely  in- 
dignant, that  I  cannot  avoid  speaking  to  y^ou  of  certain 
revelations  made  by  the  scalpel,  which,  while  enriching 
science,  have  dishonored  it,  as  is  ever  the  case  with  ill- 
gotten  wealth.  They  abound  here  with  a  superfluity 
that  is  truly  revolting,  and  which  would,  I  am  convinced, 
have  been  considerably  lessened  if  those  to  whom  we 
owe  them  knew  that  on  their  return  home  every  even- 
ing- a  little  girl  would  be  waiting  to  embrace  them,  and 
oblige  them  to  give  an  account  of  how  they  had  passed 
the  day.  As  I  have  ventured  to  speak  to  you  upon  these, 
naturally,  very  interesting  subjects,  it  is  only  fair  that  a 
few  examples  should  now  follow. 

A  Scotchman,  Sir  Charles  Bell,  the  man  who,  of  all 
others,  has  perhaps  shed  the  greatest  Jight  on  the  func- 
tions of  the  nervous  system,  and  who,  according  to  the 


282  THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE. 

opinion  of  a  competent  authority,  M.  Longet,*  has  in 
this  department  made  the  greatest  discovery  of  modern 
times,  recoiled  from  inflicting  torture  on  the  living  ani- 
mal for  the  purpose  of  wrenching  from  nature  the  hid- 
den mysteries  of  life.  The  scientific  glory  which  this 
man  of  rare  genius  and  accurate  observation  acquired  is 
untarnished  by  ferocity  ;  and  I  must  further  say,  to  the 
honor  of  England,  that  whenever  her  physiologists  de- 
sire to  pursue  their  cruel  investigations,  implied  in  vivi- 
section, they  go  to  France  for  the  purpose,  not  daring 
to  attempt  them  in  their  own  country. .  Charles  Bell 
operated  upon  rabbits  immediately  after  they  were  killed, 
and  profited  as  much  as  possible  by  the  small  remnant 
of  vitality  existing  in  their  still  palpitating  organs.  We 
have  scarcely  any  right  to  reproach  him  for  so  doing,  as 
we  do  not  scruple  to  kill  these  little  animals  for  our  own 
eating.  Unhappily,  though  his  demonstrations  are  very 
practical,  they  would  involve  explanations  that  would 
lead  us  too  far  into  the  subject.  His  successors,  who 
were  less  scrupulous,  have  made  experiments  which  re- 
quire no  explanation ;  and  as  it  will  sufficiently  answer 
our  purpose,  I  will  relate  one  of  them  only,  which  was 
performed  by  a  German  named  Muller,  in  the  year  1831, 
twenty  years  after  Charles  Bell's  discovery  had  been 
made,  public.  m 

He  took  a  frog,  an  inferior  animal  that  possesses  great 
tenacity  of  life  ;  a  mammifer  would  have  died  too  soon 
under  the  operation  to  have  allowed  him  sufficient  time 
to  observe  it  at  his  ease  ;  and  near  to  the  spinal  marrow 
he  cut  a  part  only  of  the  three  nerves  communicating 

with  each  of  the  hind  feet ;  he  cut  the  anterior  branches 

jj^  ' 

at  the  left  side,  and  the  posterior  at  the  right ;  this  ren- 
dered the  left  foot  incapable  of  motion,  whilst  it  retained 

*  Longet,  Anatomie  Comparee  da  Systeme  Nerveux. 


THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE.  283 

the  sense  of  feeling.  Means  were  not  wanting  to  ascer- 
tain the  certainty  of  this  fact ;  the  right  foot  became 
perfectly  insensible  and  incapable  of  motion.  Assuredly 
this  experiment  was  sufficiently  satisfactory,  and  did  not 
require  a  second  trial. 

Sensibility  and  movement  disappear  at  once  in  a  mem- 
ber when  we  cut  the  nerves  below  the  point  where  the 
two  classes  of  fibres  separate,  the  whole  nervous  supply 
being  thus  simultaneously  arrested.  The  government 
is  perfectly  ignorant  of  whatever  may  occur  afterwards, 
and  can  no  longer  enforce  obedience.  It  has  been  isola- 
ted at  one  blow  from  its  clerks  and  soldiers. 

Lastly,  we  can,  if  we  please,  separate  without  touching 
the  nerves,  either  the  first  or  the  second  class  of  fibres, 
simply  by  making  an  incision  in  the  spinal  marrow  above 
the  limb,  either  in  the  posterior  or  the  anterior  portion 
of  the  cord.  Here,  however,  the  separation  of  the  fibres 
is  less  certain,  and,  by  dint  of  repeated  experiments,  it 
has  finally  been  ascertained  that  contradictory  results 
sometimes  follow.  It  would  appear  that  soldiers  and 
civilians  fraternise  on  the  confines  of  the  two  bands,  and 
here  and  there,  on  the  journey,  each  side  contains  some 
deserters,  and  this  capricious  exchange  somewhat  baffles 
research.  But  what  can  be  the  use  of  so  determinedly 
pursuing  a  few  vagabond  fibres  existing  within  these 
poor  creatures,  the  presence  of  which  on  forbidden 
ground  cannot  possibly  alter  the  grand  law  discovered 
at  so  little  cost?  What  can  justify  needless  cruelty, 
when  we  have  not  exactly  a  right  to  absolution  whilst 
practising,  for  a  desirable  object  ? 

But,  enough  on  this  subject.  At  the  commencement, 
my  intention  was  not  to  speak  to  you  on  these  matters, 
but  my  wish  to  find  fault  has  superseded  my  resolution. 
It  is  before  the  tribunal  of  women  and  children  that 


284  THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE. 

questions  of  this  nature  must  be  decided.  Men  are  apt 
to  accept  all  kinds  of  good  excuses  which  would  not 
satisfy  you. 

Let  us  next  see  what  happens  when  the  action  of  the 
nervous  centre  stops. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE — (Continued.) 

HAVE  you  not  sometimes  suffered  from  those  unpleasant 
dreams  in  which  you  distractedly  flee  from  an  indefati- 
gable enemy,  and  try  by  a  thousand  ineffectual  efforts  to 
drag  your  legs  along,  when  all  the  time  they  refuse  to 
stir  ?  If  you  can  call  to  mind  the  wretched  state  of  feel- 
ing into  which  this  apathy  of  your  members  plunged 
you,  by  so  reluctantly  attending  to  your  urgent  en- 
treaties, you  will  be  able  to  form  some  idea  of  that  ter-: 
rible  malady  known  as  paralysis. 

Paraluo,  in  Greek,  signifies  I  untie,  and  paralysis  un- 
ties those  mysterious  bonds  within  us  which  unite  the 
electric  current  to  the  will. 

This  imaginary  paralysis  of  our  dreams  is  accounted 
for  by  the  general  drowsiness  of  the  encephalon,  the  base 
of  which  continues  in  a  lethargic  state,  after  the  imagina-. 
tion,  awakened  in  the  upper  part  of  the  brain  first,  has 
aroused  the  companion  at  its  side,  namely  the  will.  The 
government,  disarmed  and  incomplete,  if  I  may  so  ex- 
press it,  but  partially  aroused  from  its  torpor,  vainly 
struggles  to  exercise  its  authority,  and  hence  the  positive 
sensation  of  refusal  to  obey,  which  is  so  well  known  to 
us  under  the  form  of  nightmare.  Imagine  a  monarch 
presenting  himself  to  his  people,  and  attempting  to  is- 
sue his  orders  in  his  night  costume,  unattended  by  police 
or  soldiers !  Such  is  the  sleeper,  and  such  the 
paralytic. 

(235) 


THE   NERVOUS   CENTRE. 

The  will,  when  strong  or  over-excited,  sometimes  suc- 
ceeds in  enforcing  obedience  under  any  circumstances, 
and  by  its  strength  will  shake  off  either  sleep  or  paraly- 
sis. You  can  readily  understand  that  the  power  of  the 
will  is  not  equal  in  all ;  it  may  differ  in  strength  as  do 
kings,  but  there  is  no  absolute  rule  for  this.  It  is  difficult 
to  picture  Louis  XIY.  exercising  any  influence  over  the 
people,  without  the  red  heels  to  his  shoes  and  his  wig ; 
it  was  quite  different  with  regard  to  him  whom  the 
soldiers  called  "  The  Little  Corporal,"  and  who  was  not 
less  imposing,  but  rather  the  reverse,  in  his  gray  riding- 
coat  than  under  his  imperial  mantle  adorned  with  golden 
bees. 

It  is  related  of  Semiramis,  the  great  queen  of  Baby- 
lon, that  as  she  was  one  day  engaged  at  her  toilette, 
somebody  suddenly  told  her  that  the  city  had  revolted. 
She  rushed  furiously  from  the  hands  of  her  female  at- 
tendants, and  half-dressed  and  with  her  hair  in  disorder, 
she  restored  tranquillity  with  no  other  accompaniment 
of  royalty  save  the  energy  of  her  speech  and  the  flash  of 
her  eyes. 

There  are  several  instances  on  record  in  which  a  sud- 
den fright,  or  outburst  of  excitement,  has  caused  the  will, 
of  its  own  accord,  to  resume  the  reins  it  had  before  al- 
lowed to  escape  it ;  and  paralytics  have  been  known  to 
recover  the  use  of  their  limbs  in  a  moment.  This  hap- 
pened to  the  lame  man  whose  history  is  so  well  known, 
who,  lying  upon  his  couch  when  a  fire  broke  out  near 
him,  was  so  terrified  by  the  sight  of  the  flames,  that  with 
one  spring  he  jumped  up  and  ran  off. 

With  regard  to  sleep,  I  once  had  a  friend  who  had 
power  over  his  dreams  when  they  became  too  painful, 
and  who  by  an  impulse  of  his  will  could  emerge  from 
the  paralysis  of  nightmare.  Singularly  enough,  this 


THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE.  287 

faculty,  which  is  not  without  its  value,  was  a  recent  ac- 
quisition, observed  when  his  character  became  formed. 
He  had  no  influence  over  his  sleeping  phantasmagoria 
until  he  had  learned  to  control  the  actions  of  his  life. 

You  also,  my  dear  little  girl,  must  have  assisted  at 
this  struggle  between  the  will  and  paralysis  more  than 
once,  and  I  should  be  very  much  astonished  if  you  are 
ignorant  of  what  it  is. 

In  the  morning,  when  it  is  time  to  rise,  has  an  idle  fit 
never  taken  possession  of  you  ?  Try  it  to-morrow,  just 
to  see,  and  take  special  notice  of  what  occurs.  All  is 
awake  in  the  brain,  where  the  faculties  are  at  work  as 
if  in  full  vigor,  more  even  than  at  other  times,  because 
then  all  the  powers  of  life  are  employed  in  their  behalf. 
The  will  is  also  at  its  post,  but  it  is  undecided  and  list- 
less ;  it  feels  as  if  it  were*  hovering  beneath  the  top  of 
the  skull,  and  it  is  not  the  desire  to  get  up  which  is 
wanting.  Unfortunately,  there  is  a  weight  at  the  nape 
of  the  neck  which  fixes  the  head  to  the  pillow  ;  this  is 
the  base  of  the  encephalon,  the  cerebellum,  and  its  ap- 
pendages, the  torpor  of  which  is  not  yet  shaken  off;  the 
clerk  has  not  yet  opened  the  office.  At  last  a  great 
shock  from  the  will  forces  the  door  open,  the  business 
of  despatching  orders  immediately  commences,  the  body 
which  was  lying  paralysed  now  holds  up  its  head,  and 
life  begins  anew.  All  depends  upon  this  opportune 
shock.  For  this  reason  it  is  a  very  easy  matter  to  rise 
when  there  is  some  pleasure  in  prospect  toward  which 
the  will  bends.  An  excursion  into  the  country,  for  in- 
stance, or  the  pleasure  of  being  useful  to  your  mother, 
ought  to  be  sufficient  stimulus  were  you  always  reasonable 
and  dutiful ;  but  as  little  people  are  not  invariably  so,  I 
am  going  to  give  you  a  receipt,  by  following  which,  you 
will  more  readily  overcome  this  sleepy  clerk.  Raise 


288  THE   NERVOUS   CENTRE. 

your  head  first,  a  very  little  will  suffice,  the  effort  re- 
quired is  not  great ;  by  this  means  the  office  is  shaken, 
and  the  clerk  at  once  compelled  to  bestir  himself. 

I  thought,  my  dear  little  pet,  that  by  placing  before 
your  eyes  an  example  so  familiar  to  you  as  that  of  sleep, 
I  should  render  the  phenomena  which  accompany  the  in- 
terruption of  the  action  of  the  nervous  centre  to  the 
point  of  sight  of  the  movement  more  readily  intelligible 
to  your  comprehension.  And  now  we  must  enter  a  lit- 
tle more  in  details. 

The  suppression  of  nervous  energy  seen  in  paralytics 
may  be  considered  as  a  partial  and  permanent  sleep, 
most  frequently  following  on  cerebral  congestions.  This 
is  the  term*  applied  to  those  sudden  rushes  of  blood 
which  inundate  the  encephalon,  for  which  we  cannot 
always  give  a  reason,  and  which  derange  its'  action  when 
they  do  not  immediately  arrest  its  work  and  produce 
death,  or  at  least  disorganisation  of  its  tissues. 

A  strange  phenomenon  is  sometimes  observable  in 
these  circumstances. 

I  hope  you  recollect  the  median  line  dividing  our  body 
into  two  similar  halves,  which  are  joined  together  at 
the  middle,  like  the  two  halves  of  a  walnut  shell.  Some- 
times after  the  disturbing  flow  of  blood  has  subsided,  it 
happens  that  only  one  of  these  halves  is  rendered  torpid 
by  the  shock  it  has  received  from  the  blood,  and  the 
muscles  on  the  one  side  are  still  alive,  while  those  on 
the  other  side  are  dead,  so  to  speak.  Perhaps  you  may 
some  day  meet  an  unfortunate  individual  painfully  drag- 
ging along  the  dead  half  of  his  body  by  the  help  of  the 
living  one.  If  you  see  that  his  face  is  all  drawn  to  one 

*  They  are  also  called  apoplectic  strokes,  and  apoplexy,  two  words 
with  the  same  meaning,  the  second  signifying  in  Greek  a  blow  or 
stroke. 


THE  NERVOUS  CEl^RE.  289 

side,  you  have  the  reason  fully  explained  here.  The 
muscles  of  the  face  are  marshalled  in  pairs  throughout 
the  length  of  the  median  line,  toward  which  they  all 
centre,  as  so  many  combatants  equal  in  power,  producing 
equilibrium.  The  equilibrium  is  suddenly  disturbed,  if 
one  of  any  of  the  pairs  of  the  wrestlers  occupying  either 
the  right  or  left  side  is  struck  by  death  ;  its  surviving 
antagonist  drags  the  powerless  muscle  over  to  its  side. 

It  is  by  a  sim'ilar  disturbance  of  the  equilibrium  that 
the  median  line  is  so  horribly  displaced  in  children  who 
make  grimaces,  who  amuse  themselves  by  distorting  their 
features,  lest  they  should  grow  up  too  good-looking !  but 
the  will  is  the  culprit  in  these  cases.  It  renders  the 
contest  an  unequal  one  by  sending  a  reinforcement  of 
electricity  to  one  of  the  two  bands  ;  and  they  who  make 
faces  would  be  rightly  served,  if,  by  dint  of  being  con- 
tracted for  no  cause,  the  muscles  of  the  privileged  band* 
were  to  acquire  the  habit  of  it.  You  know  that  the 
muscles  very  readily  acquire  habits  which  they  afterward 
retain,  in  spite  of  our  efforts  to  cure  them.  Let  me  ad- 
vise you  to  tell  this  story  to  your  little  cousin,  who,  if  he 
continue,  for  sheer  amusement,  to  disturb  this  precious 
equilibrium,  so  wisely  established  by  Nature  on  the  two 
sides  of  the  median  line,  may  one  day  find  himself  with 
the  face  of  a  paralytic. 

Having  settled  this  point,  we  will  now  return  to  those 
misfortunes  which  occur  in  spite  of  ourselves. 

You  may  probably  already  have  forgotten  it,  but  there 
is  a  detail  I  pointed  out  to  you  when  speaking  of  the 
species  of  rounded  pyramid  which  the  marrow  forms 
after  its  entrance  into  the  brain.  Having  reached  the 
summit  of  the  pyramid,  if  you  remember,  the  nervous 

*  It  is  almost  always  to  the  side  which  they  first  distort  that  the 
faces  of  children  turn  who  indulge  in  grimaces. 

13 


290  THE^NERVOUS   CENTRE. 

fibres  that  are  collected  there  from  all  parts  of  the  body 
decussate  or  cross  each  other  at  this  point.  Those 
coming  from  the  right  side  of  the  body  pass  over  to  the 
left,  and  those  from  the  left  pass  to  the  right.  You  will 
see  by  and  by,  I  then  said  to  you,  what  is  the  consequence 
of  this  interlacement  or  decussation  of  the  fibres,  which 
the  indiscreet  knife  of  the  anatomist  has  revealed  in  the 
thickness  of  the  pyramid  where  it  takes  place  slyly.  It 
is  now  the  moment  to  explain  this  consequence.  When 
paralysis  manifests  itself  to  the  right  of  the  median  line, 
its  seat  is  sure  to  be  in  the  left  half  of  the  encephalon. 
If  it  betray  itself  in  the  left  side,  then  the  right  half  of 
the  encephalon  is  the  disordered  part. 

This  is  not  all.  I  told  you  in  my  last  letter  that  we 
hare  two  systems  of  nerves — one  for  movement,  the 
other  for  feeling — and  that  we  can,  at  will,  render  a 
member  powerless  or  insensible  according  as  we  cut  the 
motor  or  the  sensitive  cords.  Well,  sometimes  it  is  one, 
and  sometimes  the  other  of  these  two  systems,  which 
ceases  to  act  after  an  apoplectic  stroke  followed  by 
paralysis,  according  as  the  springs  have  been  damaged 
in  the  cerebellum  or  the  cerebrum  ;  at  least  we  have  the 
right  to  suppose  it. 

The  offices  whence  sensibility  issues  are,  in  fact  to  be 
found  in  the  cerebrum  ;  those  connected  with  movement 
are  found  in  the  cerebellum ;  this  we  shall  see  farther 
on ;  but  nothing  is  so  obscure  as  the  after  effects  of 
these  violent  disturbances  which  disorder  the  workings 
of  so  delicate  an  apparatus  ;  and  doctors  even  are  often 
sadly  perplexed  to  indicate  the  exact  point  where  the 
damage  has  been  inflicted.  The  changes  which  it  leaves 
behind  it  are  rarely  visible,  and  its  results  are  most 
capricious.  Not  only  does  it  choose  between  the  two 
halves  of  the  body  and  the  two  systems  of  nerves,  but 


THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE.  291 

even  there  it  takes  and  leaves,  sometimes  destroying  the 
movement  or  the  feeling  only  in  certain  places,  while  at 
other  times  it  destroys  them  both  only  partially.  The 
members  in  these  cases  retain  a  portion  of  their  power, 
which  may  still  be  made  use  of  by  the  will,  but  at  what 
a  sacrifice !  This  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  para- 
lysis of  nightmare  producing  in  reality  during  the  wak- 
ing state  the  imaginery  effect  of  which  we  dream  in  the 
hours  of  sleep.  The  action  of  the  nervous  centre  is  not 
suppressed  in  this  instance,  it  is  only  fettered  and  lower- 
ed. Who  can  tell  us  what  kind  of  obstacles  it  encoun- 
ters ?  Even  in  apparently  extreme  cases,  when  a  limb, 
both  powerless  and  insensible,  seems  entirely  withdrawn 
from  the  action  of  the  nervous  centre,  we  cannot  doubt 
but  that  some  sense  of  feeling  still  remains.  It  is  easy 
to  note  the  moment  when  the  decisive  arrest  of  the  elec- 
tric circulation  takes  place,  for  then  gangrene  sets  in. 

The  word  I  have  just  uttered,  is  a  terrible  one,  my 
dear  child.  I  spoke  to  you  a  short  time  ago  of  the  dead 
half  arid  the  living  half.  I  then  went  a  little  too  far. 
A  muscle  is  not  dead  simply  because  it  has  lost  its  con- 
tractile power  ;  and  the  proof  that  it  is  still  living  is 
that  the  fundamental  sign  of  life,  the  continued  renewal 
of  its  substance,  still  goes  on  in  it.  The  chemical  labo- 
ratory remains  in  activity  ;  therefore  the  electric  cur- 
rents traverse  it  as  hitherto,  though  less  energetically, 
it  is  true.  You  can  satisfy  yourself  on  this  point  by 
taking  hold  of  the  hand  of  any  person  suffering  from 
severe  paralysis.  A  death-like  coldness  is  already  per- 
ceptible, although  the  arterial  blood  penetrates  it  as 
well  as  all  other  parts  of  the  body,  but  the  elements  of 
combustion  that  it  carries  with  it,  and  with  which  it 
meets  there,  cease  to  receive  sufficient  encouragement 
from  the  electric  agent  to  maintain  in  it  the  ninety-eight 


292  THE   NERVOUS   CENTRE. 

degrees  Fahrenheit,  of  which  we  have  already  spoken. 
This  hidden  source  of  life — the  chemical  life — is  lowered 
a  notch.  You  might  imagine  you  had  come  in  contact 
with  a  reptile  :  I  speak  of  a  living  one.  Divide  the  last 
links  that  attach  the  cold  hand  to  the  centre  from 
whence  it  receives  its  remnant  of  life,  separate  it  from 
the  arm,  and  decomposition  will  speedily  ensue.  When 
absolute  paralysis  shall  silently  sever  these  last  links, 
there  will  be  no  occasion  to  cut  off  the  limb  ;  decompo- 
sition will  take  place  in  the  hand,  whether  it  be  an  ap- 
pendage of  the  arm  or  not,  and  this  is  what  is  known  by 
the  expression  gangrene,  which  is  death,  positive  death, 
seizing  upon  part  of  a  being  still  in  life. 

We  will  not  pursue  this  subject  any  further  ;  besides, 
we  have  finished  the  history  of  this  nervous  centre  which 
holds  the  members  so  completely  under  its  authority. 
Can  you  guess  what  thought  came  into  my  mind  while  I 
was  showing  you  a  hand  reduced  to  the  inferior  life  of  a 
reptile  ?  It  was  this,  that  the  members  of  a  reptile  are 
better  distributed  than  ours  ;  at  least,  they  are  more 
independent ;  there  life  is  not  left  so  completely  under 
the  absolute  action  of  a  centre,  that  they  cannot  dispense 
with  it.  If  you  were  to  cut  into  the  spinal  marrow  of  a 
lizard  in  such  a  way  as  to  intercept  all  communication 
between  the  head  and  the  hind  feet,  the  latter  would 
still  be  able  to  move,  and  would  be  convulsed  if  you  were 
to  pinch  them..  In  the  reptile,  life  goes  on  in  the  prov- 
inces, though  the  latter  be  separated  from  the  capital. 
If  we  descend  lower  still  in  the  animal  scale,  we  shall 
come  into  collision  with  organism  where  the  capital  is  so 
unnecessary  that  there  is  none.  This  is  one  of 'the  most 
distinctive  laws  of  animal  organization,  that  in  propor- 
tion to  its  perfection,  life  tends  to  centralize  itself  more 
and  more.  You  fully  understand  that  I  am  just  now 


THE  NERVOUS  CENTRE.  293 

speaking  of  the  life  of  relation  ;  and  the  human  body,  the 
masterpiece  of  the  animal  kingdom,  is  the  one  of  all  others 
in  which,  without  contradiction,  this  centralisation  is  the 
most  complete.  Not  long  ago  I  said  :  "  Society  is  like 
a  man  on  a  large  scale  ;  it  tends,  by  a  natural  inclination, 
to  organize  itself  on  the  same  plan  as  the  human  organi- 
sation." I  greatly  regret  that  these  questions  do  not 
belong  to. our  present  subject,  because  in  discussing 
them  I  should  have  had  an  opportunity  of  throwing 
light  on  a  great  quarrel,  of  which,  one  day  or  other,  you 
will  hear  something.  I  shall  only  say  a  word  about  it 
here. 

We  belong  to  a  country,*  my  dear  child,  which,  as  re- 
gards others,  is  to  a  certain  extent  what  the  human  body 
is  among  other  organisms,  and  which,  -into  the  bargain, 
suffers  from  these  circumstances.  The  capital  being 
gorged  or  surcharged  paralyzes  the  provinces,  and  this 
is  a  disease  we  should  endeavor  to  remedy  ;  but  this  does 
not  prove  that  it  is  necessary  to  take  away  from  it  its 
title  to  social  superiority  by  decentralizing  its  life. 
When  the  head  is  too  full  of  blood,  we  put  mustard-poul- 
tices to  the  feet.  Why  not  act  in  a  similar  manner  on 
the  provinces  ?  Let  them  be  exhorted  to  react  upon 
the  capital  in  the  same  way  as  moxas  are  applied  to  a 
benumbed  limb  to  restore  the  electric  circulation  there, 
by  making  it  rouse  the  brain.  This  is  perfectly  right ; 
it  is  combating  the  evil  by  remaining  within  the  limits  of 
the  law  of  social  life  ;  but  to  advise  a  return  to  their 
former  isolation  would  be  as  absurd  as  to  counsel  our 
members  to  retrograde  toward  stages,  over  which  nature 
has  passed,  in  order  to  arrive  at  the  point  we  have  reach- 
ed. People  may  say  what  they  please,  the  lizard  is  a 
Girondin. 

*  The  author,  it  will  not  be  forgotten,  is  a  Frenchman. 


294  THE  NEIIVOUS  CENTRE. 

Ask  some  one  else  to  explain  to  you  what  a 
Girondin  is  ;*  I  avoid  doing  so  for  fear  of  being 
scolded.  But  how,  I  ask  you,  is  it  possible  to  dis- 
pense with  politics  when  speaking  to  a  queen  of  her 
government  ? 

*  Girondins  was  the  name  given  to  a  political  party  which 
formed  a  section  of  the  Second  National  Assembly  of  France 
called  the  "  Legislative,"  in  contradistinction  to  the  first  or  "  Con- 
stitutional," which  framed  the  constitution  of  1791.  The  members 
of  this  party  were  mostly  from  the  departments  of  the  West  and 
South.  They  were  republicans,  and  hostile  to  monarchy,  and 
formed  their  notions  of  liberty  on  classical  models. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE  INVOLUNTARY  -MOVEMENTS. 

WHAT  would  you  say,  my  dear  child,  if,  whilst  you  are 
moving  about  in  your  mother's  room,  answering  her 
gentle  voice  and  tender  look,  as  naturally  as  you 
breathe,  one  of  those  beggar-women,  whom  you  some- 
times see  in  the  streets,  were  all  on  a  sudden  to  place 
herself  between  your  parent  and  yourself,  and  seizing 
you  roughly  by  the  hand  compel  you  to  obey  her  vulgar 
commands  ? 

I  fancy  I  see  you  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  vainly 
calling  upon  your  mother  to  come  to  your  assistance,  as, 
dismayed  by  the  termagant,  you  struggle  in  hopeless 
despair  under  the  tyrannical  restraint  that  tortures  you. 
Well,  then,  a  similar  scene  takes  place  within  our  bodies 
when  the  rude,  coarse  electricity  of  the  pile,  making  an 
inroad  in  our  members,  violently  repulses  the  friendly 
currents  which  are  sent  there  by  the  will. 

There  are  piles  constructed  expressly  for  this  purpose. 
You  take  hold  of  a  copper  handle  in  each  of  your 
hands,  and  the  current  that  rushes  from  one  pole  to  the 
other  passes  through  your  body,  it  having  suddenly  been 
converted  into  a  passage  of  communication  between  the 
two  poles.  The  result  of  all  this  very  clearly  discloses 
the  mysterious  cause  of  muscular  contraction.  No  mat- 
ter how  much  you  endeavor  to  prevent  them,  the  hands 
instantly  clench  the  copper  handles  as  if  some  irresistible 
power  issued  from  them  ;  and  they  are  certainly  endowed 

(295) 


296  THE  INVOLUNTAEY  MOVEMENTS. 

with  a  power,  and  one  that  we  are  all  well  acquainted 
with,  inasmuch  as  it  is  that  of  electricity. 

In  this  instance,  the  muscles  are  placed  between  two 
sources  of  electricity  of  different  kinds,  between  two 
very  different  masters,  each  of  which  governs  according 
to  his  own  fashion.  If  we  may  be  allowed  to  consider 
the  brain  as  a  sort  of  animal  pile,  whence  proceed  along 
the  nerves  currents  of  organic  origin,  civilized  currents, 
if  I  may  so  express  it,  disciplined,  guided  in  their  course 
— be  it  by  intelligence  or  instinct — the  pile,  in  its  turn 
may  be  compared  in  its  action  on  the  muscles  to,  excuse 
the  expression,  a  kind  of  mineral  brain  projecting,  in  a 
straight  line,  currents  of  inorganic  origin,  which  on 
their  journey  through  our  muscles  conduct  themselves 
like  a  band  of  unrestrained  savages  dashing  straight 
ahead  across  a  country.  In  the  one  case,  as  in  the  other, 
the  muscular  contraction  is. always  caused  by  electricity, 
but  what  a  difference  in  the  procedure  of  the  pile  and 
that  of  the  brain  1  The  former  invades  the  muscles  all 
at  once,  causing  them  to  contract  simultaneously,  in  a 
riotous,  painful  manner  as  it  passes  along,  and  the  an- 
tagonists of  each  pair  of  muscles  pull,  at  the  same  time, 
in  despair  upon  the  bone,  which  does  not  know  whom  to 
obey.  Instead  of  the  regular  transmission  to  and  fro, 
effected  with  so  much  calmness  and  gentleness,  when 
the  brain  issues  her  successive  commands,  the  pile,  like 
a  stranger  in  the  castle,  by  her  blind  and  contradictory 
orders,  produces  nothing  but  universal  confusion. 

What  have  you  to  say  of  all  this,  my  little  friend  ? 
Did  you  expect,  when  I  was  giving  you  the  history  of 
Yolta's  frog,  that  we  should  end  by  finding  the  same 
thing  repeated  in  ourselves.  However,  there  is  no  use 
in  our  denying  it.  Electricity  exercises  the  same  action 
over  us,  whether  it  be  produced  from  within  or  without ; 


THE  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS.         .  297 

and  I  have  a  proof  of  this,  which  struck  me  very  for- 
cibly the  first  time  I  became  aware  of  it. 

You  know  that  we  possess  two  sorts  of  nerves,  those 
which  carry  information  from  the  body  to  the  brain,  and 
create  what  is  called  sensation,  the  others  which  trans- 
mit the  orders  of  the  brain  to  all  parts  of  the  body,  and 
preside  over  movement,  that  is  to  say,  muscular  contrac- 
tion. Orders,  then,  and  information,  contractions  and 
sensations,  proceed  from  two  different  points  in  the  reg- 
ular working  of  life ;  orders  pass  from  the  centre  to  the 
extremities,  information  proceeds  from  the  extremities 
to  the  centre.  Now  when  the  current  of  the  pile  invades 
a  nerve,  it  immediately  produces  either  a  contraction  or 
a  sensation,  according  as  it  moves  in  the  direction  from 
the1  centre  to  the  extremities,  or  from  the  extremities^  to 
the  centre.  Therefore  I  was  not  wrong  in  telling  you 
just  now,  that  under  these  circumstances  the  pile  acts  as 
a  sort  of  brain  to  the  muscle.  The  nervous  filaments 
there  do  not  mistake  the  agent ;  they  act  as  electric  con- 
ductors with  it,  exactly  as  they  do  with  the  brain,  each 
in  its  own  peculiar  way.  I  will  venture  to  add,  that 
sensations  and  contractions  are  produced  pell-mell,  and 
at  the  same  moment,  provided  the  foreign  current  be 
energetic,  no  matter  what  may  be  its  direction,  It  is  a 
blind  brute  force,  not  understanding  the.  word  of  com- 
mand, but  trampling  it  under  foot  the  moment  it  has 
the  power  to  do  so. 

We  have  in  the  history  of  nations,  the  counterpart  of 
this  foreign  power  coming  and  brutally  assuming  the 
place  of  the  constituted  and  recognized  government. 
This  is  called  invasion,  and  I  hope,  my  dear  child,  it 
may  please  God  that  you  shall  know-  it  by  name  only. 
But  invasion  changes  its  name  when  it  is  theTsovereign 
of  a  country  himself  who  calls  in  a  stranger  to  reduce 
13* 


298        THE  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS. 

his  subjects  to- order,  when  he  cannot  succeed  in  doing 
so.  It  then  becomes  intervention  ;  and  if  we  still  wish 
to  continue  the  comparison  between  the  interior  of  our 
own  little  household  and  that  of  large  governments,  we 
shall  recognize  intervention  there  also. 

You  have  not,  I  think,  had  time  to  forget  what  I  said 
to  you  regarding  paralysis,  that  revolt  of  the  nervous 
system,  currents  of  which  cease  to  be  subject  to  the  will, 
or  only  obey  it  in  an  idle  manner,  like  wearied  or  dis- 
contented subjects  who  treat  with  indifference  whatever 
orders  may  be  given  to  them.  The  will,  betrayed  by  its 
ordinary  servants,  can  then  compel  the  muscles  to  con- 
tract in  spite  of  themselves,  by  submitting  them  to  the 
currents  of  the  pile  ;  ever-willing  servants,  blind  slaves 
who  never  dispute,  resembling  the  Swiss  of  the  King  of 
Naples,  who  were  so  useful  to  him,  that  he  could  dis- 
pense with  the  fidelity  of  the  Neapolitans.  It  is  possible 
in  this  way.  to  re-establish  the  electric  circulation  of  par- 
alyzed limbs,  and  apparently  to  imbue  them  with  life  for 
an  instant.  It  is  true  that  the  life  is  but  a  foreign  one 
momentarily  borrowed  from  the  external  brain  of  which 
I  have  just  spoken  to  you,  and  which,  it  is  natural  to  ex- 
pect, is  condemned  to  disappear  immediately  communi- 
cation is  interrupted  between  the  limb  and  the  pile.  But 
notice  what  a  mysterious  thing  real  life  is,  the  life  that 
has  its  centre  in  the  true  brain.  The  contact  of  foreign 
life  is  sometimes  able  to  arouse  it.  The  interior  currents 
are  themselves  called  into  play,  as  if  they  were  disposed 
to  do  .their  best  on  seeing  the  service  of  the  muscles 
usurped  by  their  younger  brothers  from  without,  and  the 
impulse  thus  given  persists  long  after  the  action  of  the 
pile  has  ceased.  It  may  by  repeated  attempts  even  con- 
tinue indefinitely.  This  is  one  of  the  means  resorted 
to  for  the  restoration  of  those  afflicted  with  paralysis ; 


THE  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS.        299 

and  if  you  remember  how  those  paralytics  were  cured 
and  enabled  to  walk  by  a  sudden  effort  of  the  will,  you 
must,  to  a  certain  extent,  be  able  to  account  for  the 
wonderful  effect  the  pile  is  sometimes  capable  of  produc- 
ing. Shftck  resppnds  to  shock  ;  it  may  be  compared 
to  the  winding  *up  of  enfeebled  springs,  though  how 
it  is  accomplished  in  either  case  we  are  unable  to 
say.  •» 

It  would  not,  however,  do  to  trust  this  always.  In- 
tervention is  dangerous  in  its  nature,  and  the  artificial 
life  which  is  asked  from  it,  occasionally  breaks  the 
springs  instead  of  winding  them  up.  We  have  heard  of 
more  than  one  example  of  partial  paralysis  being  ren- 
dered complete  by  the  intervention  of  the  pile.  We  have 
also  heard  of  princes  whose  last  remnant  of  popularity 
has  been  destroyed  by  their  appealing  for  the  interven- 
tion of  the  stranger. 

The  most  extraordinary  effect  that  can  by  any  possi- 
bility be  made  upon  the  animal  machine  by  currents 
from  a  foreign  source,  is  one  that  can  never  be  of  any 
service.  It  is  precisely  that  observed  by  Volta  on  his 
dead  frogs ;  it  is  the  movement  produced  after  death. 
Experiments  have  been  made  on  bodies  of  which  the 
executioner  has  just  severed  the  head  from  the  trunk. 
Death  having  overtaken  these  individuals  whilst  in  the 
enjoyment  of  perfect  health,  they  could  be  subjected  to 
the  currents  of  the  pile  while  still  possessing  the  neces- 
sary conditions  to  enable  it,  the  pile,  to  play  the  part  of 
the  nervous  centre  which  had  just  been  destroyed.  What 
spectacle  can  be  more  hideous  than  that  of  galvanized 
corpses  playing  at  life,  as  it  were,  half  raising  themselves, 
twisting  about,  beating  the  air  with  their  limbs,  shaken 
for  the  last  time  by  false  convulsions,  and  then  falling 
motionless  the  instant  that  the  source  of  artificial  life  is 


300  THE  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS. 

withdrawn  from  them.  One  may  well  call  this  the  tri- 
umph of  intervention  ;  truly  man  has  never  approached 
nearer  to  Nature  in  his  endeavors  to  extract  the  secret 
of  life  from  her  bosom  ;  but  the  triumph  has  been  a  most 
fruitless  one,  and  teaches  us,  better  than  anything  else, 
how  utterly  powerless  we  are  to  enter  the  lists  with  the 
law  which  regulates  all  things. 

I  entitled  this  chapter  "  The  Involuntary  Movements." 
Here  are  some,  undoubtedly,  with  which  the  will  has  noth- 
ing to  do,  and  it  would  be  somewhat  difficult  to  set  aside 
their  claim  to  the  epithet  involuntary.  I  know  of  others 
the  dependence  of  which  is  less  authentic ;  and  as  we 
never  know  what  may  be  in  store  for  us,  I  intend  to  en- 
lighten you  a  little  on  the  subject. 

It  is  more  than  probable  that  you  have  heard  people 
speak  of  hysterics,  or  nervous  attacks.  It  is  well  known 
that  the  malady  is  peculiar  to  ladies,  they  having  almost 
the  entire  monopoly  of  nervous  disorders.  Spiteful  per- 
sons sometime  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  they  constitute  a 
great  portion  of  their  arsenal,  but  we  are  going  to  dis- 
cuss the  truth  of  these  remarks.  The  fact  is,  that  some 
physiological  reason  lies  concealed  beneath  all  this,  and 
female  nerves  are  in  reality  more  difficult  to  keep  in  con- 
dition than  are  those  of  men. 

This  requires  a  word  of  explanation. 

Nerves  are  something  more  than  mere  conductors  in 
the  human  pile  ;  they  are  generators  of  electricity  them- 
selves, and  in  that  capacity  they  perform  an  action  pecu- 
liar to  them.  We  are  compelled  to  acknowledge  this  to 
be  the  case  in  animals  possessing  nerves  and  no  brain, 
which  may  be  compared  to  those  barbarians  of  ancient 
Germany,  when  every  man  made  war  after  his  own  fash- 
ion, and  only  depended  upon  his  sword.  The  army  of 
nerves  within  is  subjected  to  the  laws  of  a  very  severe 


THE  INVOLUNTARY  MOVEMENTS.  301 

discipline,  and  quietly  obeys  the  orders  of  a  chief  who 
may  be  said  to  hold  the  whole  of  them  in  his  grasp.  But 
no  army  is  so  well  disciplined  as  not  to  be  able  to  revolt 
when  overmarched.  Admirable  as  the  arrangements 
are  in  the  French  army,  it  is  not  very  long  since  it  afford- 
ed us  an  example  of  this.  It  is  true,  it  occurred  among 
the  Zouaves,  the  most  nervous  of  its  soldiers . 

In  moments  of  excitement,  when  vital  activity  is  in 
excess,  and  electricity  accumulates  in  the  nerves,  they 
are  apt  to  work  without  orders,  especially  if  from  one 
cause  or  another  there  is  general  weakness,  and  conse- 
quently exhaustion  of  the  brain.  Then  nervous  attacks 
burst  forth,  agitating  the  members  by  involuntary  move- 
ments, with  so  great  an  expenditure  of  power,  that  weak, 
delicate  women  have  been  known,  whilst  in  this  state,  to 
struggle  with  vigorous  men,  afterward  undergoing  the  in- 
evitable punishment  of  having  squandered  their  strength, 
and  remaining  for  a  long  time  in  a  state  of  extreme  pros- 
tration. Now,  it  seems  quite  clear  from  all  this,  that  the 
larger  the  nervous  cords  are  compared  with  the  brain, 
the  easier  it  is  for  them  to  acquire  the  ascendancy  over 
their  chief;  and  this  is  just  the  case  with  women,  who 
have,  in  general,  in  proportion  to  their  size,  larger 
nerves  and  smaller  brains  than  men. 

Do  not,  my  dear  child,  conclude  from  all  I  have  said, 
that  in  your  future  position  of  a  grown-up  lady,  you  are 
necessarily  destined  to  suffer  from  nervous  attacks  on 
every  occasion.  No  woman  of  any  determination  ever 
suffered  from  one  of  these  attacks  when  she  was  really 
called  upon  to  attend  to  any  important  business.  I 
mentioned  Semiramis  to  you  when  speaking  of  paralysis. 
Perhaps  it  would  have  been  wiser  to  have  reserved  the 
story  until  now,  for  this  is  a  case  of  armed  Rebellion; 
more  alarming,  I  admit,  yet  easier  to  put  down  than  the 


tf 

302  THE  INVOLUNTAEY  MOVEMENTS. 

simple  refusal  of  the  nerves  to  do  their  work,  in  the  case 
of  paralysis.  These  conditions  may  be  said  to  represent 
a  government  contending  with  two  obstacles  ;  on  the  one 
hand,  the  rebels  have  raised  barricades,  on  the  other,  they 
obstinately  refuse  to  pay  the  taxes. 

A  queen  who  has  a  will  of  her  own  is  always  certain 
in  similar  cases  to  keep  her  nerves  in  check,  however 
large  they  may  be,  and  on  this  account  the  rebellious 
movements  of  an  attack  of  nerves  are,  properly  speaking, 
only  involuntary  in  a  secondary  point  of  view.  Once 
allowed  to  take  part  in  the  insurrection,  the  nerves  mock 
at  the  will,  which,  had  it  chosen,  in  the  first  instance,  to 
act  vigorously,  would  have  obtained  the  ascendancy ;  and 
so  it  is  that  man's  free  agency  always  renders  him  re- 
sponsible for  his  actions. 

We  must  not,  however,  pursue  the  subject  too  far.  It 
was  quite  right  that  you  should  be  taught  something 
about  these  little  mutineers,  which  are  not  so  easy  to 
control  when  they  have  once  been  allowed  to  have  their 
own  way.  But  whilst  endeavoring  to  caution  you  agains  t 
the  error  of  letting  them  lead  you  captive,  I  would  not 
have  you  to  be  unnecessarily  severe  upon  those  whom  you 
may  be  called  upon  to  witness  suffering  from  these  at- 
tacks. In  each  one  of  us  there  is  an  entire  system  of 
nerves  independent  of  the  action  of  the  will — that  of  the 
nerves  of  the  internal  republic,  which  has  its  own  nerves, 
— and  when  nervous  affections  proceed  from  this  system, 
it  would  most  assuredly  be  very  cruel  to  judge  harshly 
of  those  suffering  from  these  attacks.  I  have  had  no 
occasion  up  to  the  present  time  to  speak  to  you  of  these 
proud  republicans ;  they  are  quite  distinct  from  the  walk- 
ing machine.  Now  that  its  history  is  completed,  I  must 
fill  up  a  gap  I  was  constrained  to  make  in  the  preceding 
part.  As  we  accompanied  our  "Mouthful  of  Bread"  in 


THE   INVOLUNTARY   MOVEMENTS.  303 

its  various  travels,  we  followed  the  example  of  tourists, 
travelling  through  Switzerland  from  canton  to  canton, 
delighting  in  the  glaciers  and  the  lakes  without  ever 
troubling  themselves  respecting  the  government  of  the 
country.  It  is  true  that  the  government  does  not  occupy 
a  very  large  space ;  neither  does  the  government  of  the 
stomach,  the  heart,  and  the  lungs  occupy  much  space  in 
us.  For  this  reason  I  felt  sure  I  might  be  allowed  to 
skip  over  them  without  any  considerable  inconvenience. 
You  must  not,  however,  imagine  the  study  is  one  to  be 
despised ;  and,  believe  me,  I  should  not  have  felt  justified 
in  passing  .over  it  silently  if  I  had  been  able  to  enlarge 
upon  it  with  you.  Yet  how  was  it  possible  to  do  so 
with  a  little  child  who  had  never  learned  anything  about 
electricity? 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

THE  GREAT  SYMPATHETIC  NERVE. 

THESE  minor  governments  in  the  world  of  nutrition  which 
we  have  passed  by  unnoticed,  have  frequently  been  as 
little  regarded  by  others,  who  either  never  observed  them 
at  all,  or  considered  them  as  quite  unworthy  of  remark. 
I  must  in  justice  say  they  make  very  little  show. 

Buried  in  the  hidden  recesses  of  the  body,  between  the 
vertebral  column  and  the  great  organs  of  nutrition,  there 
is  a  double  row  of  small  knots  of  nervous  substance, 
bound  together  by  a  series  of  nerves  running  from  one 
to  the  other  in  succession,  from  the  neck  to  the  base  of 
the  colujan.  The  whole  appears  like  a  sort  of  continuous 
cord  with  knots  at  certain  distances,  and  for  a  long  time 
this  cord  was  looked  upon  as  a  dependency  of  the  cere- 
bral system  with  which  it  communicates  by  means  of  a 
certain  number  of  nervous  filaments.  It  had  its  assigned 
place  among  the  great  army  of  nerves,  where  it  was 
known  as  the  great  sympathetic  nerve ;  so  well-chosen  a 
name,  that  I  prefer  to  retain  it ;  and  by  and  b}^  when  we 
come  to  speak  of  the  passions,  you  will  see  my  reason  for 
doing  so. 

The  illustrious  Bichat  assigned  its  proper  place  to  this 
great  sympathetic  nerve,  and  in  this  fact  lies  his  best 
title  to  scientific  glory.  He  was  the  first  resolutely  to 
proclaim  in  public  what  others  had  hitherto  only  ven- 
tured timidly  to  whisper,  namely,  that  this  pretended 
nerve,  so  far  from  being  a  subject,  is  the  rival  of  the 
(304) 


THE  GREAT  SYMPATHETIC  NERVE.        305 

brain  •  its  colleague  if  you  understand  the  term  better. 
It  is  now  acknowledged  to  be  a  mass  of  nervous  centres, 
each  of  which  possesses  an  independent  lite ;  a  collection 
of  little  brains,  if  I  may  make  use  of  the  rather  rash  ex- 
pression ventured  on  by  some  of  the  precursors  of  Bichat 
It  is,  as  the  Swiss  would  say,  the  great  council  of  this 
federative  republic,  which  counterpoises  the  cerebral 
royalty  within  us.  The  nervous  prolongations  which 
unite  these  ganglia,  this  is  the  name  given  to  these  little 
brains,  are  only  messengers  employed  to  keep  up  a  con- 
stant communication  among  them,  as  also  the  filaments 
proceeding  from  the  vital  centre  by  means  of  which  a 
communication,  is  established  between  the  two  great 
systems.  As  a  messenger  is  only  called  upon  to  execute 
his  commissions,  he  takes  no  part  in  the  administration 
of  affairs,  therefore  their  respective  independence  re- 
mains intact. 

Would  you  not  feel  somewhat  curious  to  examine  the 
presidents  of  our  little  republics  rather  more  closely,  my 
dear  little  girl  ?  This  is  to  be  our  last  anatomical  les- 
son, and  you  need  not  fear  my  making  it  too  long. 
Do  you  not  wish  first  of  all  to  ask  me  of  what  shape  are 
these  ganglia?  We  are  here  in  the  land  of  liberty, 
where  we  shall  not  meet  with  that  uniform  symmetry, 
peculiar  to  regions  under  a  monarchical  government 
Round,  oblong,  triangular,  sometimes  very  voluminous, 
at  others  shrunk  to  almost  nothing,  they  vary  in  shape 
and  appearance,  in  the  most  capricious  manner,  from  one 
end  of  the  cord  to  the  other ;  in  one  individual  they  are 
different  from  what  we  find  in  another,  and  those  of  the 
same  pair  most  generally  differ  between  themselves. 
Even  their  place  and  their  number  are  subject  to  a  thou- 
sand variations  ;  sometimes  they  are  to  be  found  in  places 
where  usually  there  are  none,  at  others  they  are  vainly 


306       THE  GREAT  SYMPATHETIC  NERVE. 

looked  for  in  parts  where  it  is  customary  to  meet  with 
them.  In  this  instance,  Nature  seems  fully  to  avail  her- 
self of  the  liberty  allowed  her.  And  who  can  say  but 
that  the  immense  varieties  of  humor  and  temperament 
we  meet  with,  may,  in  some  degree,  depend  upon  these 
caprices  in  the  distribution  of  the  nervous  centres  of  the 
life  of  nutrition  ?  You  will  be  able  to  understand  this 
better  when  we  come  to  examine  into  their  influence 
upon  the  actions  of  the  moral  life,  as  I  propose  doing  at 
some  future  time. 

The  substance  of  the  ganglia  bears  no  resemblance  to 
that  of  the  spinal  marrow  and  brain.  It  is  a  species  of 
gelatinous  pulp  of  a  reddish  gray  color,  lodged  within 
an  extraordinary  fine  cellular  network,  from  whence 
bundles  of  white  fibres  issue,  the  extremities  of  which 
disappear  in  the  pulp  of  the  cells.  The  fibres  of  the 
ganglionic  nerve  do  not  form  tight  cords  like  those  of 
other  nerves  ;  the  skein  is  loose,  and  every  here  and  there 
its  scattered  threads  are  intertwined  with  those  of  the 
adjoining  ganglia,  to  form  what  are  called  a  plexus.*  As 
I  have  selected  a  skein  to  illustrate  my  meaning,  I  will 
ask  you  to  picture  one  to  yourself  that  has  become  en- 
tangled in  the  winding,  and  some  impatient  little  hand 
by  dint  of  pulling  at  the  threads  in  every  direction,  has 
drawn  the  whole  into  a  ball.  This  will  give  you  a  tol- 
erably clear  idea  of  these  plexus,  which  are  easily  dis- 
tinguished from  the  ganglia,  because  they  are  composed 
of  twisted  fibres  only,  in  which  no  trace  of  pulp  is 
visible. 

Now  let  us  take  a  hasty  glance  at  the  principal 
details  in  the  ganglionic  world.  It  is  too  hidden  a 
country  for  its  topography  to  prove  very  interesting 
to  you. 

*  Plexus  in  Latin  signifies  an  interlacing. 


THE  GREAT  SYMPATHETIC  NERVE.        307 

We  do  not  find  all  the  ganglia  on  the  line  of  the  great 
sympathetic  nerve.  From  those  contiguous  to  the  last 
pair  of  ribs,  each  generally  has  its  own,  bundles  of  fibres 
issue,  the  definitive  expansion  of  which  produces  an  in- 
extricable confusion  of  intermingled  nervous  branches 
and  small  ganglia  which  sometimes  separate,  at  others 
mixed  up  together  in  a  manner  baffling  all  description. 
All  this  assemblage  of  multiplied  inter  weavings  and 
stray  ganglia  form,  beneath  the  diaphragm  and  the  liver 
between  the  stomach  and  the  vertebral  column,  a  vast 
network,  on  which  the  anatomists  have  bestowed  the  poetic 
name  of  solar  plexus,  because,  they  say,  it  is  a  represen- 
tation of  the  sun  with  its  rays.  We  shall  touch  on  the 
solar  plexus  again  at  some  future  time.  The  shock 
which  the  stomach  sustains,  a  sensation  so  familiar  to 
those  who  have  suffered  from  great  or  sudden  emotions, 
is  due  to  this  plexus  ;  and  the  ancients  who  placed  the 
second  seat  of  the  soul  there,  its  lower  palace,  if  you  like 
to  call  it  so,  were  not  far  wrong  in  so  doing.  That  part 
of  us  over  which  we  have  no  control,  is  scarcely  distinct 
from  what  is  called  the  soul ;  1  mean  the  superior  ele- 
ment of  our  nature. 

The  solar  plexus  envelops  with  its  ramifications  the 
aorta  and  the  vessels  which  it  sends  to  the  diaphragm, 
the  liver,  and  the  digestive  tube  ;  it  seems  arranged  on 
the  same  plan  as  the  arterial  network,  and  the  same  may 
be  said  of  all  the  nervous  prolongations  of  the  ganglia. 
It  is  in  threading  along  the  arteries,  following  the  same 
path,  that  they  almost  always  penetrate  into  the  organs 
over  which  the  ganglionic  system  rules.  This  invariable 
arrangement  of  the  nervous  apparatus  peculiar  to  the 
life  of  nutrition,  in  my  opinion  sufficiently  indicates 
wherein  lies  the  secret  of  its  power  over  its  royal  neigh- 


308        THE  GREAT  SYMPATHETIC  NERVE. 

bor  ;  it  controls  the  blood  which  exercises  immense  au- 
thority over  the  brain. 

Next  to  the  solar  plexus,  the  most  important  is  the 
one  placed  close  to  the  heart,  at  the  exit  of  the  aorta, 
and  the  elements  of  which  are  provided  by  the  ganglia 
in  the  region  of  the  neck  ;  it  is  called  the  cardiac  plexus.* 
It  was  impossible  for  me  to  avoid  mentioning  this  name ; 
it  would  riever  do  to  pass  silently  over  so  great  a  per- 
sonage as  the  one  employed  to  govern  the  heart. 

Speaking  of  government,  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  his 
majesty  the  brain  is  represented  in  these  popular  assem- 
blages of  plexus,  where  the  cerebral  filaments  are  mixed 
up  intimately  with  those  of  the  ganglia  ;  it  is  by  their 
means  that  whatever  intelligence  has  seen  elsewhere  is 
revealed  here,  a  necessary  revelation  indispensable  to 
their  intervention  in  the  affairs  of  the  life  above.  The 
royal  messengers  in  their  turn  do  not  fail  to  create 
trouble  there.  They  even  sometimes  seize  upon  the  di- 
rection of  affairs,  as  happened  formerly  in  the  case  of 
the  Polish  diets,  so  jealous  regarding  the  management 
of  their  country.  Thus  it  is  that  certain  men,  so  rare, 
it  is  true,  that  they  are  brought  forward  as  examples  in 
physiological  books,  have  possessed  the  marvellous  fac- 
ulty of  stopping  at  will",  and  according  to  their  fancy, 
the  beatings  of  this  pre-eminent  republican,  the  heart. 
A  person  possessing  this  power  is  in  no  way  to  be  hon- 
ored for  having  such  a  faculty,  seeing  that  this  phenom- 
enon, so  directly  at  variance  with  the  recognised  laws 
of  nature,  can  only  be  explained  on  the  supposition  of  a 
defective  conformation  of  body.  Nature,  who  is  so 
capricious  in  her  disposal  of  the  ganglia,  no  doubt  ne- 
glected to  give  sufficient  development  to  their  contingent 

*  Cardiac  plexus,  from  the  Greek  word  cardia,  signifying  a 
heart. 


THE  GREAT  SYMPATHETIC  NERVE.        309 

in  the  cardiac  plexus  of  these  individuals,  and  the  cere- 
bral fibres  thought  it  a  fine  opportunity  of  showing  their 
power,  otherwise  adieu  to  the  royal  will ;  it  would  vainly 
try  to  impose  upon  us  if  all  were  at  their  posts,  and  the 
proudest  wills  we  have  ever  read  of  in  history  have  never, 
so  far  as  I  know,  prevailed  over  a  cardiac  plexus  that 
was  in  proper  order.  When  republics  succumb,  it  can 
only  be  attributed  to  some  error  in  the  constitution. 

Here  I  finish  the  history  of  our  movements.  It  would 
have  been  incomplete  if  I  had  left  out  this  chapter  on 
internal  movements,  which,  like  the  others,  are  performed 
by  means  of  muscular  contractions,  determined  by  a 
nervous  centre.  Those  ^muscles  which  work  for  the 
benefit  of  nutrition,  are  not  exactly  like  those  which  the 
brain  sets  in  motion  ;  but  I  do  not  think  it  necessary  to 
proceed  further  with  our  anatomical  examination  into 
this  ganglionic  world,  which,  you  must  agree  with  me,  it 
was  quite  right  you  should  know  something  of.  We  do 
not  pretend  to  be  blue  stockings ;  it  is  quite  enough  that 
we  have  mastered  (as  an  appendix  to  the  history  of  the 
walking  machine)  the  general  description 'of  those  free 
powers  which,  in  secret  and  in  silence,  keep  all  the  parts 
of  the  eating  machine  in  motion.  This  subject  is  so  lit- 
tle known,  that  you  may  turn  what  you  have  learned  to 
great  advantage  among  your  friends.' 

One  word  more  before  I  take  my  leave. 

I  spoke  to  you  the  other  day  of  centralisation.  I  am 
not  quite  sure  whether  I  was  right  in  doing  so.  At  all 
events  it  is  done  ;  and,  having  begun  the  comparison  be- 
tween the  social  body  and  the  human  one,  I  am  obliged 
to  carry  it  out. 

If  it  is  true  that  each  human  being  possesses  within 
himself  a  model  worthy  of  being  consulted  by  all  those 


310        THE  GREAT  SYMPATHETIC  NERVE. 

seeking  for  the  best  laws  of  social  organisation-— do  not 
alarm  yourself,  I  will  put  it  before  you  in  another  form — 
if  our  body  is  a  little  society  in  such  harmony  as  to  serve 
as  a  standard  for  larger  ones,  we  have  here  an  explana- 
tion of  that  double  instinct  which  leads  nations  to  seek 
strength  in  centralisation,  and  freedom  in  decentrali- 
sation. 

The  domain  of  the  brain :  I  know  perfectly  well  where 
to  look  for  it  in  governmental  regions.  The  apparatus 
of  relation  is  our  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  and  the 
department  of  the  muscles  bears  so  strong  an  analogy  to 
that  of  war,  that  military  comparisons  have  continually 
presented  themselves  to  my  mind  whilst  we  have  been 
engaged  in  this  study.  It  is  evident  that  a  guiding  will 
is  necessary.  Nations  could  not  do  better  than  imitate 
Nature,  who  has  placed  all  the  powers  of  the  body  under 
one  guidance,  whose  action  is  felt  in  every  part  when  a 
struggle  has  to  be  maintained  against  the  stranger.  I  do 
not  require  to  recapitulate  the  conditions  under  which 
this  supreme  chief  exercises  its  power,  which  becomes 
inert  immediately  the  heart  ceases  to  co-operate  with  it. 

But  other  laws  govern  the  interior  life.  The  nutritive 
apparatus  of  a  country,  its  commerce,  its  industry,  the 
incessant  labor  of  its  citizens,  by  which  public  wealth  is 
kept  up,  and  let  us  also  add  the  throbs  of  a  national 
heart ;  all  this  the  ganglionic  system  full  plainly  shows 
us  requires  to  be  left  to  itself.  It  would  be  a  fine  affair 
if  the  brain  had  to  watch  over  the  service  of  the  stomach, 
or  if,  at  its  convenience,  it  regulated  the  movements  of  the 
Master  who  disposes  of  its  life.  Besides,  how  could  it 
accomplish  all  this,  and  what  would  become  of  the  poor 
body,  if  the  least  drowsiness  attacked  the  universal  cen- 
tre ?  Happy  is  it  for  us,  and  do'  not  let  us  be  slow  to 
own  it,  that  Nature  has  armed  herself  against  these  en- 


THE  GREAT  SYMPATHETIC  NERVE.        311 

croacbments  of  power,  and  only  made  them  possible  by 
some  false  step  on  her  part.  I  have  already  told  you 
that  when  government  interferes  with  what  does  not  con- 
cern it,  it  is  the  fault  of  the  ganglia.  Remember  the 
history  of  the  cardiac  plexus. 

With  this,  my  dear  child,  we  shall  take  leave  of  each 
other.  We  have  now  reviewed  almost  every  part  of  the 
human  machine,  -and  I  have  little  left  to  show  you. 
That  which  remains  to  be  seen  is  not  the  least  curious 
part,  being  the  outppsts,  so  to  speak,  of  our  sentinels, 
that  which,  of  all  else  within  us,  is  the  most  artistically 
fashioned,  the  most  exquisitely  elaborated.  Upon  this 
will  follow,  perhaps,  the  most  interesting  of  all ;  I  mean 
the  invisible,  that  which  is  unseen.  Adieu,  then,  iny 
dear  child,  until  the  time  when  I  shall  have  the  pleasure 
of  bringing  before  you  the  "  History  of  the  Senses  and 
of  Thought." 


THE   END. 


